Fort PokePower
Muffins forever
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- 14
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- Mystona
- Seen Jun 8, 2024
Just a short little short story/narrative thing I wrote for school.
There used to be a time when I knew the welcoming light of the sun rather than the dank flickering of torchlight; when I knew the relaxing warmth of the sun's rays rather than the scorching ferocity of a dragon's flames; when I knew the pale blue sky dotted with clouds rather than the high stone ceiling marked with the desperation of those who have attempted to break through it. That time is long past, though. Now I know only this dank torchlight, these scorching flames, this unbreakable ceiling, and the prison I share with Sheen.
Sheen's story is even sadder than my own. The only time she's ever felt the touch of sunlight was when she was still within her egg, before she was taken from her mother's nest and became my dragon. It was through no choice of my own that her future was taken from her before she even opened her eyes - I could never bear to force another into the slavery I live in. No, it was my masters who took her egg from the clutch and dragged her down to this inescapable cage. And for what? To fight for the entertainment of the privileged free.
I've tried to make it up to her by raising her kindly; or at least, as kindly as this harsh life will allow. I could not be too gentle with her as a dracling, otherwise we both would have died the moment we stepped into the arena. But her white scales were to me as bright as the sun I no longer had, and I could not bear to extinguish that light simply to make her fiercer as so many other enslaved gladiators had with their own dragons.
When Sheen was old enough to ride, we were immediately sent to fight in the arena together. We were not expected to win our first few fights - no one ever does. However, slow as Sheen was, she was also strong and durable compared to most of the other dragons. It is thanks to her strength that we were able to rise through the ranks so quickly. Within a year, we had earned our own titles from the masses: Erik the Eradicator and Sheen the Shield. I'm not entirely sure how my title came to be, but Sheen was indeed my shield; without her, I would have died long ago.
I cared not for what my title was, so long as I had it. Having a title meant the spectators loved you, and if the spectators loved you, the masters treated you better. Gladiators were encouraged to put on a better show in the hopes that they would be rewarded with better food, warmer garments, and more comfortable living quarters. Sheen and I, we were quite popular with the crowd, so we had it pretty good in comparison with most other gladiators.
However, even if my masters did treat me considerably well, I was never once allowed to catch even so much as a glimpse of sunlight after entering these walls. Even if my darling Sheen was there to comfort me, she could not return to me the freedom that I had lost as a child.
I considered escaping many times, but I couldn't think of any way to get both me and Sheen out, and I loved her too dearly to leave her behind to face certain death. For that was what awaited her if I escaped alone: death. It had happened before, when other slaves had escaped; their gladiator dragons had been killed immediately by the much larger and fiercer guard dragons.
I had also considered allowing myself to die in battle so that Sheen would be transferred to the luxorious nests for breeding. However, I knew she did not wish for such a life, just as I did not wish for this life of bondage. So together, man and dragon, we waited and we fought until finally, there was a spark of hope.
Halfway through my 23rd year in the colosseum, rumors of a band of dragon tamers fighting for the freedom of all gladiators began to spread. At first, no one gave these rumors much thought; after all, according to what little we slaves were able to gather of what was happening outside these walls, this band of freedom fighters was small. How far could such a minority make it when the majority of the public enjoyed watching men and dragons pitted against each other in bloody battles? How did they plan to sway the crowd to their side? It simply wasn't possible, so we didn't allow ourselves to hope.
However, we soon learned that the Dragon Fighters - as they had come to be known - had no intentions of convincing the public to join them. Rather, they were simply using brute force and devious tactics to free gladiators and their dragons from their prisons. Many of these freed slaves were more than glad to join the Dragon Fighters and fight against those who had oppressed them, so the numbers of these rebellious few continued to grow until they weren't so few anymore.
Within a year, more than half of the colosseums in the country had been destroyed, and thousands of gladiator slaves and dragons freed. Finally, we began to allow ourselves to hope once again. Perhaps one day we would see the sun again after all.
There used to be a time when I knew the welcoming light of the sun rather than the dank flickering of torchlight; when I knew the relaxing warmth of the sun's rays rather than the scorching ferocity of a dragon's flames; when I knew the pale blue sky dotted with clouds rather than the high stone ceiling marked with the desperation of those who have attempted to break through it. That time is long past, though. Now I know only this dank torchlight, these scorching flames, this unbreakable ceiling, and the prison I share with Sheen.
Sheen's story is even sadder than my own. The only time she's ever felt the touch of sunlight was when she was still within her egg, before she was taken from her mother's nest and became my dragon. It was through no choice of my own that her future was taken from her before she even opened her eyes - I could never bear to force another into the slavery I live in. No, it was my masters who took her egg from the clutch and dragged her down to this inescapable cage. And for what? To fight for the entertainment of the privileged free.
I've tried to make it up to her by raising her kindly; or at least, as kindly as this harsh life will allow. I could not be too gentle with her as a dracling, otherwise we both would have died the moment we stepped into the arena. But her white scales were to me as bright as the sun I no longer had, and I could not bear to extinguish that light simply to make her fiercer as so many other enslaved gladiators had with their own dragons.
When Sheen was old enough to ride, we were immediately sent to fight in the arena together. We were not expected to win our first few fights - no one ever does. However, slow as Sheen was, she was also strong and durable compared to most of the other dragons. It is thanks to her strength that we were able to rise through the ranks so quickly. Within a year, we had earned our own titles from the masses: Erik the Eradicator and Sheen the Shield. I'm not entirely sure how my title came to be, but Sheen was indeed my shield; without her, I would have died long ago.
I cared not for what my title was, so long as I had it. Having a title meant the spectators loved you, and if the spectators loved you, the masters treated you better. Gladiators were encouraged to put on a better show in the hopes that they would be rewarded with better food, warmer garments, and more comfortable living quarters. Sheen and I, we were quite popular with the crowd, so we had it pretty good in comparison with most other gladiators.
However, even if my masters did treat me considerably well, I was never once allowed to catch even so much as a glimpse of sunlight after entering these walls. Even if my darling Sheen was there to comfort me, she could not return to me the freedom that I had lost as a child.
I considered escaping many times, but I couldn't think of any way to get both me and Sheen out, and I loved her too dearly to leave her behind to face certain death. For that was what awaited her if I escaped alone: death. It had happened before, when other slaves had escaped; their gladiator dragons had been killed immediately by the much larger and fiercer guard dragons.
I had also considered allowing myself to die in battle so that Sheen would be transferred to the luxorious nests for breeding. However, I knew she did not wish for such a life, just as I did not wish for this life of bondage. So together, man and dragon, we waited and we fought until finally, there was a spark of hope.
Halfway through my 23rd year in the colosseum, rumors of a band of dragon tamers fighting for the freedom of all gladiators began to spread. At first, no one gave these rumors much thought; after all, according to what little we slaves were able to gather of what was happening outside these walls, this band of freedom fighters was small. How far could such a minority make it when the majority of the public enjoyed watching men and dragons pitted against each other in bloody battles? How did they plan to sway the crowd to their side? It simply wasn't possible, so we didn't allow ourselves to hope.
However, we soon learned that the Dragon Fighters - as they had come to be known - had no intentions of convincing the public to join them. Rather, they were simply using brute force and devious tactics to free gladiators and their dragons from their prisons. Many of these freed slaves were more than glad to join the Dragon Fighters and fight against those who had oppressed them, so the numbers of these rebellious few continued to grow until they weren't so few anymore.
Within a year, more than half of the colosseums in the country had been destroyed, and thousands of gladiator slaves and dragons freed. Finally, we began to allow ourselves to hope once again. Perhaps one day we would see the sun again after all.