The Arena

The city in the sky was above Arthur as he plummeted to the ground. Huge fans were spread across it's bottom, spinning too fast to see. Cold air and sleet pelted the now freezing mask he wore. He fell for a minute then looked back on the city. It was still more massive than he could comprehend, and the rotating blade's hum could still be heard.

Arthur found it hard to breathe, half from the lack of oxygen and half from the wind pounding his stomach as he fell. He breathed through short gasps.

Half of him wanted to scream in terror while the other half wanted to do front flips. This was the most exhilarating thing he had ever done in his life. He laughed as he watched the city slowly shrink. His happy mood went away as the reality of everything weighed in on him. He had been exiled to a land the creators of the city deemed unworthy of living with no food, water, or supplies.

He looked up once more to see the city had shrunken down to a watermelon size and he yanked the string on the pack. A cloth flew out and caught wind quickly, jerking Arthur's body about. His descent was slowed down significantly to a trotting pace.

The ground of the exile lands was in sight, and it was barren. There was a layer of pure white snow with no wind. Spruce trees dotted the ground with green speckles. The sun in the sky illuminated the tundra with orange light.

It was a beautiful sight to Arthur, and he wished Daniel was there to see it as well.

Arthur waited and watched as he fell towards the earth gently. A tree caught his parachute before he touched down, and he dangled 12 feet in the air. Arthur pulled out his push dagger and began to cut strings.

He dropped as soon as the last string was cut. He pushed off the trunk of the tree and rolled away without harm.

"I need to find a source of water." Arthur told himself as he began to trudge through the knee-high snow.

He walked for hours, and now shook with the cold. He felt lethargic and nearly fell as he walked.

There was a stream frozen over down a short cliff. He slid down and ambled to it's surface. The ice was 3 inches thick and clear. He pulled out a hook sword and began hacking away at the ice. It cracked in places and began to chip away.

The sword dipped into the water and hit the river bed. He scooped the freezing water in his hands and drank.

His thirst was quenched, but at the price of his body heat. Arthur could no longer feel his hands or feet, and was swimming in and out of consciousness. He continued to trudge on, tripping over nothing and shivering like a cartoon.

He heard a vicious snarl from behind and whipped around as best he could. There was a wolf, which was a completely new never seen creature to him, with it's lip raised and haunches in a pouncing position.

The wolf's fur was extremely thick due to the inhospitable climate of the snowy land.

Arthur chuckled to himself. "This is how I die. At the hands of a creature I don't even know. I could not learn anything of the outside world. How cruel of mother nature." He fell to his knees and tears began to roll down his face. He took the helmet off and held it under his armpit. "Kill me, you foul heathen! Tear me apart and eat me!" He cried out. The wolf jumped with surprise and began to snarl more intensely. It leaped at him and bounced on his chest. It bit into his shoulder and searing hot pain shot through his body. Warm blood trickled down his arm, giving a few moments of relief from the unbearable cold. The wolf shook its head violently, ripping through muscle and skin.

The wolf let go, and just as it was about to finish his hunt, the roar of a creature much larger than it sounded close by. The wolf skittered off in fear, leaving Arthur mangled and dying slowly. The last thing he saw before his eyes shut were people rushing to his side.

------

"What should we do with him? His magic prowess is unimaginable!" A female voice said.

"We shall see when he wakes up." An old man replied

"What are we seeing?" Arthur sat up abruptly and looked around. The two strangers jumped at his voice and turned.

"You're finally up. Good to see you're not too bad with those two types of bites. Ha, get it?" An old man in a thick wool robe and boots joked.

"Grandpa!" The 20 or so woman next to him shouted, offended. "Why would you make a joke about these things! He could have died!"

Arthur began to chuckle as he got the joke. "That's a good one old man. Are you a comedian."

"Unfortunately not. I'm stuck being the chief of this small village."

Arthur awkwardly chuckled as he looked around the room. He was in a tent made of an animals thick hide. Their were 10 standing torches posted around the place. His weapons and clothes were sitting on a table.

The elder looked at Arthur with a serious look. "We have questions that must be answered."

"I'll be happy to oblige." Arthur smiled.

"First, what is your name?" The chief half asked and half demanded.

"Arthur Kingsley." Arthur said with pride.

"Second where did you come from?" He seemed to be deep in thought.

"I come from a floating city."

The elders face grew dark and he downcast his eyes. "I feared that." When he looked back up, their was a look of burning hatred in his eyes. His granddaughter looked at Arthur with disgust and fear.

Arthur read the emotion in their faces and understood. He got of the bed and got on his knees. "I don't know why you hate me, but I will do my best to make it up for you."

The chief looked into the distance blankly. "The grudge within our people is too large for one person to change." He smacked his cane on the ground twice and two large men in full leather armor walked in. "We must send him to the arena. Treat him as a criminal."

The men grabbed Arthur, who gave no resistance, and dragged him out of the tent. They wrapped a cloth around his eyes before he could get a good look at anything.

------

When the cloth came off his face, he was in a cell. It was a very large stone room with two exits. One was a large iron gate that led to an arena where people were bustling into seats. The other was a thick iron door with a small slot at eye level.

"Hello my people!" The chief could be heard outside in the arena. "I have brought you here today for a fight." The crowd seemed to huff in sync. "But that's not all. This isn't any old fight. We have a new challenger from the floating city!" The crowd picked up in pleasant cheers. "Do we want to meet our new warrior?!" The crowd roared with excitement. "Bring him out!"

The gate began to lift and the people grew even louder. Arthur walked out slowly and took in the whole sight. There was a ring of spikes dug into the ground around the edge of the circular arena. The arena itself was about 100 feet all around. There were rows of people watching all around, thousands of them.

"Let's see how good of a fighter he is! Send out number 86!"

A gate on the other side of the arena began to open. Before it was even half way open, a large man burst out and forced the gate the rest of the way up. He wore a leather mask and simple leggings. His muscles were well developed, but he still had a large stomach of fat.

"Let the fight begin!"

Immediately, Arthur's opponent began running at him with a fist pulled back for a punch. He got close to Arthur, who was standing still, and swung. Arthur dodged and grabbed his hand in a special grip. He then forced his elbow backwards In one swift motion, then kicked him hard in the ribs. The cracking noises of both attacks spread through the whole arena like it was played through a megaphone. Arthur did not let his opponent rest at all and kicked in the stomach. The warrior came off the ground from the force and involuntarily bent forward. Arthur spun around and brought his steel toe boot down upon the back of his skull, slamming his head head into the ground. Two spine-shivering crunches sounded, one was his the back of his skull and the other was the front. Fresh blood spread across the dirt with steam rising off of it in the cold air.

The arena was silent for a moment before an air shaking roar took over every noise.

"Bring out number 23!"

A few moments later, A new fighter came running out. He was nothing but muscle and wore the same thing but added a metal helmet.

"Don't you think it's a little unfair for him to have a metal helmet? I mean, you took mine away. All I'm wearing is a pair of pants and some boots." Arthur looked at the chief.

The chief ignored Arthur as the warrior shouted and charged towards his target. Arthur jumped to the side and hammered his toe into the metal helmet. It dented, but the warrior was still standing.

"That's some top quality metal." Arthur grabbed a punch from the warrior and dragged the fist farther than intended, sending him off balance. Arthur proceeded to kick the guy in the left shin and right knee. He yelped in pain as he went to grab at Arthur's throat, but Arthur ducked at the last moment and punched him in the diaphragm. Arthur heard a splattering noise from inside the helmet.

"You should have learned how to take a hit." Arthur kicked the man in the crotch then took of the helmet. The man inside was wincing with his eyes shut tight. Arthur grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into a knee. The nose broke immediately and blood shot from the nostrils. Arthur smoothly moved around to the back of the warrior and put one hand on his chin and one on his temple, each on opposite sides. "Say goodbye." Arthur smiled, and in one swift movement, the man's neck was broken.

The crowd was silently staring at the spectacle. They were amazed because the numbers of the warriors represented their ranking and this spoiled city brat beat one of the best they had like it was nothing.

Arthur spread his arms out and spun in a circle. "Are you not entertained?!" He shouted loudly. "Are you not entertained? Is that not why you're here?!" He picked up the helmet and chucked it at the chief.

The chief jumped from his chair and barely dodged the helmet. "Send number 4!" The chief was enraged by Arthur's defiance so much so that his skin was turning beet red.

A new warrior came from the gate and walked to the arena. He was smaller than all the other guys and wore full leather armor. As soon as Arthur saw him, his eyebrows knotted together.

This guy is different. He's no bumbling idiot. He knows how to fight. Arthur thought to himself as he went into high alert. He put his hands up in a crude stance. His sides were open and his diaphragm was exposed.

"What is that?" The warrior shouted as he gestured to Arthur. "That stance is horrible. Your sides and gut are completely exposed."

"It's my own concoction. Don't underestimate it."

The warrior just shook his head and put his hands in a boxing stance. The two approached each other slowly, only inching forward. Arthur's hands progressively went up until they were just above his head. They got close, and before the warrior could do anything, Arthur had kicked him in the side of the right knee. The warrior's attention wavered and he took a left hook to the face.

The crowd gasped in disbelief as the number 4 fighter took off his helmet and spat out a bloody tooth. The warrior was blonde and had a wide jaw.

"You weren't kidding." He wiped his mouth and approached again, more cautious. Arthur's hand went back down to eye level, but his sides were still exposed. The warrior immediately went for a left hook and connected, but before he could pull back, Arthur's elbow shot down and pinned his fist there. Arthur then wrapped his arm around to his elbow and and twisted his arm. The warrior was forced to bend over into a painful position. Arthur then took his right hand and uppercut with all his strength. The warrior's jaw snapped audibly as went flying into the air by 2 feet. While he was still in the air, Arthur kneed him in the stomach, forcing blood out of the warrior's mouth. Arthur then used the force of his body to spin in a circle and slam him into the ground. A few ribs broke on impact, and his head was spinning with pain, but Arthur had no mercy. Arthur proceeded to jump and stomp his ribs, breaking almost all that were left. The warrior lost his breath and sputtered blood everywhere.

The crowd only stared in fear and disgust. Arthur looked around and saw the crowds reactions.

"If you weren't prepared to see something like this, why do you even pit these warriors against each other for your entertainment? it's hypocritical and inhumane. At least enjoy the things you've forced them to die for."

The people began to question themselves. Had they really been that horrible? They couldn't let these people go, but they should still have the last moments of their lives be filled with cheers, right?

The crowd began clapping for the dying man in the floor. They progressively got louder and faster, until the whole colosseum was roaring.

"Thank you, friend." The warrior on the ground muttered his last words to Arthur, then stopped breathing with a smile on his face.

"Thank you all in the crowd for giving this man a happy death!" Arthur threw his hands up and shouted. "Now bring out your number one. I wish to fight."

"Bring him out!" The chief shouted to a guard by a gate. The guard

The guard lifted the gate and stood back. A blonde man with the same exact body type as Arthur stepped out.

"Dio!" Arthur pointed pointed and shouted at the new opponent.

"What? No. My name is Chris."

"The fight begins now!" The chief shouted and beckoned to the cheering crowd.

Chris dashed forward and went on the offensive, throwing a flurry of punches. Arthur slowly backed up while deflecting the punches. They slowly walked in circles until Chris started to breathe heavily. Arthur found one Gap in his punches and threw a punch of his own into Chris's liver. He coughed and hopped back.

"You're pretty good, Arthur." Chris wiped sweat from his brow.

"Thanks. I've been fighting since I was 8." Arthur showed no signs of fatigue.

Chris once again dashed forward with a hay-maker punch. Arthur ducked under the arm and threw Chris over his shoulder. He slammed onto his back and Arthur kicked his elbow backwards. Chris winced with pain.

"Do you give up?"

"Never!" Chris spat on Arthur's boot.

"Now that's just rude. You're gonna clean that off" Arthur flipped Chris onto his stomach and wiped his boot with Chris's hair then kicked him in the back of the head. "I ought whip you with a belt. You're lucky I don't have one with me."

Chris struggled in the hold, but couldn't move. Arthur quickly twisted his wrist and broke it. Chris grunted and ground his teeth.

"You think this will hurt me?" Chris spat again.

"Ah. So you want more, do you?" Arthur studied his body for a bit and then swung with great power straight into Chris's kidney. Chris screamed at the pain of a busted organ. "I still have more if you want. You want to be paralyzed from the waist down or do you want to die a slow painful death?"

"S-stop." Chris whispered.

"Sorry, What's that. You're gonna have to be louder." Arthur stood up and studied Chris who was now in the fetal position. The people watched in horror as Arthur did a full power spinning kick straight into Chris's spine. Multiple cracks and crunches as Chris screamed in pain and his legs went limp.

"S-stop. Please!" Chris shouted as loud as he could.

"Stop your suffering? Okay." Arthur flipped Chris over and pulled his neck back. An iron claw of a hand clamped on his throat and he tried, with no avail, to resist with the one arm he had left. Arthur picked him up and carried him to the edge of the Arena. "Hasta la vista, babay." He dropped Chris into the ring of spikes and watched as the body was impaled by many wooden stakes.

"Impossible!" The chief shouted.

"Anything is possible. Even someone having complete control of sound." Arthur pulled out the sound crystal from his pocket and cancelled all the crowd's sound out. They soon realized this and stopped jostling about. Arthur walked over to the chief and climbed up the arena wall. The chief shrank back into his chair as Arthur approached close to his ear.

"I have multiple options with what to do to you. I could make you go deaf. I could make you feel so much pain you'll wish you were dead before I'm even a third of the way through. I could just simply kill you, but killing you can come an many shapes and sizes. The one I'm feeling right now is letting someone else take care of you while I sit in this throne. But before that happens I demand a few things. I need my things back and I need food and a good coat to help me through this weather." Arthur grabbed his wrist and picked him up off the throne. "If you fail this or run away, you're putting your granddaughter in danger. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." The chief ran through a door behind the throne.

Arthur sat down and looked at the guard by the gate. "Release them all."

"Why would I listen to you?!" The guard spat on the ground.

"You think you could beat me?" Arthur stood and raised an eyebrow.

"What are you going to do against full metal armor and a spear. All you fought were some blundering naked idiots."

"Fine then. I will fight you." Arthur hopped down from the throne and rolled into the arena. The guard immediately charged with the spear and stabbed. Arthur dodged, grabbed the shaft, then broke it with a knee. He took the short spear head and held it like a knife. The guard swung the shaft overhead but Arthur dodged again. He stepped on the stick then stabbed the spear head in the small gap in his armor at his neck.

Arthur threw the body into the spike pit and climbed back up to the throne. The chief came back carrying everything he asked for except for one thing.

"Where's my mace staff?" Arthur grabbed the stuff in his hands.

"I could not carry it with all of this stuff. I am weak and old. Please forgive me. I'll go get it right now."

"Just lead me there." Arthur followed the chief through the torch infested town to the tent he woke up in. His mace staff stood in the corner. "Thank you for your service." Arthur grabbed the staff and began to dress into his outfit, putting the extra coat over his trench coat. Arthur walked to the chief once more and grabbed his wrist. "We've got one more thing to do." Arthur dragged the old man back to the arena and threw him in the pit. Arthur jumped down and walked to the gate where his opponents came from. He opened the gate and walked in. About 20 guards turned and readied their spears.

"Wait." Arthur held his hands up. "If you go to attack me, I will immediately run out and kill your chief."

The guards began to lower their spears. Arthur continued to speak.

"I want you to release every one of your prisoners."

"Are you out of your mind? Why would we do that?" One guard shouted.

"Because your chief's life is in my hands."

The guard backed down and looked at his feet. "Yes sir." The guards began to let the prisoners out of their cages.

"Hello prisoners. My name is Arthur and I'm the reason you're being set free. The only condition is that you fight and kill the one person in the pit, okay?"

The prisoners shouted and began to run to the gate. Arthur ran out first and climbed up to the throne. He watched with a cold smile hidden under his mask as the prisoners ran out and saw only the chief standing in the pit. They began to laugh as they walked forward, resentment in their eyes.

"Thanks for this chance, Arthur." One prisoner stepped forward and punched the cowering chief.

"You guys have fun. I'm going to go and do what I need to do." Arthur stepped out through the chief's door and left the arena. He walked out of the village, carrying a bag of food over his back.