The Execution

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The world was slowing down for Mace Tyrell. As an heir to the famous house Tyrell of the Reach his life was pretty much without much of an obstacle. He lost some bets here and there and disappointed Lady Olenna a few times, but he never caused such a big disaster as this time. He sat down while losing all color of his face and slowly shut himself down to the growing noise. This was the figure of a person that lost courage. The nobles of the Reach were greatly disappointed. You can fail when you are young but losing with a noble demeanor and losing like a stray dog were two completely different things. Victor was pretty sure that Lady Olenna would need to put a dog leash on her son's head. If Mace Tyrell didn't achieve an amazing feat by chance his only worth would be to father children and continue the bloodline of House Tyrell.

Robert Baratheon couldn't wait any longer. The feeling of deciding about life and death, having absolutely control and being the focus of thousands of people was exhilarating. He proudly stood in the center position of the balcony and raised his voice.

"People of Lys, I, Robert Baratheon, the future Lord of Storm's End, the future Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, hereby condemn the two gladiators of House Tyrell to death. The executioner will be the hero of Lys, Attilius Di Natale!"

As the crowd began to cheer and scream Robert was enjoying the moment. For the first time in his life there was a little seed deep within his heart. A longing for power, for the supreme right over life and death.

Attilius slowly walked behind one of the two gladiators and raised his swords slowly, crossing them behind the head of the kneeling gladiator. The man was struggling feeling death approaching. His muscles were contracting, but he couldn't move anymore after losing so much blood. At the highest point of the cheers Attilius used strength. The swords flew out to both sides and a head flew high up in the air, falling right in front of the second gladiator.

In the face of death, the man found the last strength his body could bear. He slowly rose from the ground more staggering than standing. He couldn't see anymore. The whole was red.

"Please, please..please..don't..."

Even though his voice was so small in this giant colosseum, Attilius heard him very clearly. The only response was a little smile on his face, without the slightest bit of compassion. If you step into the arena, you leave your life behind or you become a hero. There is no place for love and compassion on the sand.

Attilius slowly stepped forward turning the swords in his hand. The gladiator could feel the vibrations of the air as he started to violently shake. He tried to raise his hands in a defensive position. Before the arm reached the height of his face Attilius started spinning, cutting of the arm in one quick motion with the first spin. He didn't stop for a second. With his second spin his sword passed straight threw the neck of the gladiator cutting of his head seemingly without effort.

The arena turned quiet. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Suddenly never-ending cheers. The crowd erupted like never before. Every noble sitting on the balcony of the arena got goosebumps. The long voyage across the ocean was worth it. The evening just started, and most people already had cracks in their voice from the screaming and cheering.

With a flick of his wrist Attilius flipped the remaining blood of this swords and put them behind his back again. He calmly took a last look at the colosseum that changed his life, bowed in every direction of the arena, and then left the arena without looking back. He would never return to be a gladiator in his life. The story of the first hero of the arena was written but the story of Attilius Di Natale just started.

The following fights were entertaining but never got quite close to the excitement of the first fight again. The people of Lys and the nobles still really enjoyed the night. Honestly it would have been way too exciting if the fights continued at this level. But over the course of the evening the excitement was slowly climbing pack to its peak as the final fight was drawing closer and closer.

The final fight of the night turned out to be a big surprise for everybody. Over the course of the night four skilled gladiators stood out from the crowd:

A black gladiator called Rex, owned by a rich merchant of Qarth.

A Dothraki warrior called Bell, owned by a slave trader of Yunkai.

An Unsullied, owned by a slave trader of Astapor.

A skilled Braavosi swordsman, owned by a a noble of Dorne.

All of them went through two life and death fights over the course of the evening. They showed exceptional weapon skills and endurance. Especially the skillful Braavosi swordsman earned the cheers of the crowd. The dornish noble was pleasantly surprised and was happily chatting with Oberyn and the rest of the Dornish. His situation was quite special as he was the first noble of Westeros owning a slave that reached the final in the colosseum in Lys.

Even though the Di Natale family was famous for training gladiators they have not send many champion gladiators in the last year. Victor rather used warriors with great potential as family soldiers than to send them in the meat grinder of the colosseum. Even very skilled fighters sometimes died on the sand of the arena as the fights were not fair to begin with most of the time. Wasting so many potential seeds for a rather low reward was not worth it in the long run. After the first mercenaries of The Red Viper regiment were released and received their rewards the potential warrior seeds were not disappointed by that situation at all. Surviving a mercenary mission was a lot more likely than surviving a night in the colosseum. The Di Natale family turned the gladiator business into short term investments and sold them after 2-3 months to new founded gladiator schools all around the world.