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Those who don’t know me call me Liese. Others refer to me as the Subject #837. Or G837, G short for Gladiator. In reality, I don’t have a name. Or identity. I am merely a tool. I don’t remember my parents like I don’t remember my birth. I wonder how definite the term is. Gladiator. They were ancient warriors, sometimes fighting for their freedom, sometimes for the sake of it. Some of them were heartless, some merely forced into it. I am not ancient, and the concept of warriors in an arena has been modernized. On top of that, I can barely fight. Even though I have been trained my entire life for it. I can be heartless, sure, but not to the extent of ripping people apart. But then how sure I can be about where my limits are. I have never been to the arenas, never pushed to edges. In a life or death situation I might be a different person. But why should I care about living? I don’t know. Tomorrow some of us are going to face it.

I get out of bed. The clock shows 11:37. My room is rectangular, so is the clock, so is the bed. One can summarize this whole castle as the stiff corners, long corridors, huge halls and cubic rooms. Orderly. Boring. Some find peace in it however, I can’t see how. I need to get out of here. A bit further, the corridor has a sharp turn west which leads to the balcony. I am on the 31^st floor, almost the top of the castle. The moon looks closer from up here. Does it really though? Or my eyes are deceiving me? All I can see below is fog, like a never-ending abyss. It’s eerie because I know it’s not never-ending, during the days one can see the training fields, and sporadic buildings as sales shops and bars. But even then they look so small it’s barely worth watching. There are more exciting things to look at from here. On the north is the entrance part of the castle, dark walls even during the day. Huge windows placed on spots so different from what I saw in the outside world years ago. Here are road-like ledges beside the windows, and towers so high as if they are trying to impale the sky with their needle tips. On the south however, there is the mountains. And… is someone sitting on the parapet?

Whoever it is, probably doesn’t hear my footsteps as I get closer. He has our class uniform on, judging by the high collar. I get to the other side of the parapet. He looks at me over the shoulder.

“Ash,” I say. “It’s you.”

Ash, or better known as Subject 821, was the first person I befriended on my arrival to the cells. He was energetic, kind. Taught me how to read while others taught me how to fight. Over the years however, the glow slowly faded. Tonight he is calm. Too calm despite being on the edge of the never-ending abyss. “Don’t you think everything looks… fake from up here?” He says.

I notice our different perspectives on it. But that’s besides the point, he is awake for the same reason I am. “You know, they say when the Arrevatein died in war and came back to life, he redesigned the arena fights and shaped it into what we have today; he wanted to give freedom to participants. Meaning, they could entirely deny being one. Because he himself never had the freedom.”

Ash chuckles, looking down away from me. “And that’s an escape? There is no escape. Everyone is awake tonight, scheming for tomorrow. Why? If the generous rules of arenas save the peace seeking spirits?” He laughs, a laughter that sounds real. “Deny, and you will become an immortal servant of the castle.”

That I had no counterpoints to. The castle has servants, but they seem… like what Ash described what everything from up here seem. Fake. The servants couldn’t talk, or apparently comprehend, but there were speculations that they were subjects from previous generations who never volunteered for the arenas, and their consciousness slowly faded in time.

“Aren’t you afraid?” I ask and pause. “I know you are volunteering. I saw it growing in you for quite a while now.”

“Of course not,” Ash says calmly. “I get accepted or rejected, will be a quick death either ways. The alternative is what scares me.”

“What will be…”

Someone approaches us, we turn to find out it’s Raven. “Did I interrupt you?” He says. “Sorry that I had to.”

I and Ash exchange looks. “We were talking about…”

“I know what you were talking about.” He interrupts me again. “Everyone’s talking about it tonight. It’s the big event huh? Some of us are going to die, some of us are going to be warriors. An end and a start together. I thought we might as well continue the not-so-talked-about tradition. Team up.”

Raven and I have a history together, not a bright one like I have with Ash. What he did in the past still makes me unease around him. I wonder if he sees this as an opportunity to close in on me again.

“I am not going to volunteer for it,” I say. “I don’t feel ready.”

“What?” Raven says. “We are at the perfect age. There is nothing left to learn here. Imagine another year under this sky that gets darker with each day. But it’s not the sky changing, it’s us.”

I unintentionally look upwards but quickly realize that it’s midnight. Then I look back at Raven and it feels like time stops for a moment. “I am sorry, I don’t want to see you.” I say and walk to leave.

The castle shakes. An explosive sound comes from the entrance side of the castle. I look at Ash; he looks at me. We hear footsteps. Simultaneously, Ash and I run towards the end of corridor, down the stairs to the lower floor. I don’t know what to expect, is this a midnight frenzy from other classes? Or outsiders? The castle was too hidden from the outside world for the latter. As Ash and I step down the stairs into the Assembly Hall, I see subjects preparing their weapons, some already going for the entrance. The place is lit by bonfires and candles. I notice Tezhav further ahead, giving instructions to random to Subjects, and he notices me.

“You, what are you waiting for?” He shouts. “This is an attack from the house Reevandi. Be prepared.”

My head boils as I disassociate. House Reevandi beholds equilibrium of the dead. Opposing side of our path. Attending the entertainment of the emperor, just like us. This kind of attack happened only once before. And it was not a nice scene, that I remember. I hurry to my section of the hall, numbered 837, as Tezhav enchants into the hall.

“Today you will have a glimpse of what is waiting for you in the arenas. Not for all of you, but only those who are brave enough, and insane enough, to see the danger and say I want more of it.”

My wrist band opens the metal door of my closet and I snatch my knuckle bands and light armor. My armor is made of fabric, and my knuckle bands are covered with acidic pickles. It’s an intricate look and design, but years of daily repetition allows me to wear the armor and weapon set in slightly more than a minute. Then head to the exit door alongside my fellows, already hearing snaps and shatters, shouts and booms. I don’t like crowd work, so I aim for a random balcony while Tezhav’s speech trails behind.

“You are the monsters here, not them. You killed them. And it is time for you to kill them again.”

He probably means the Subjects of fore generations. For I myself have never killed anyone.

Once in open air, I hang from a side and leap on the ledge below it. Then crawl through a window which leads to yet another corridor towards the entrance. No one else has stumbled down here, but their noises echo in various corners.  I reach a series of rooms grouped into each other by many doors, like a maze. But I know my way around. It’s our laboratory that presents itself apart from the rest of the sections by long tables, and extra sized chairs, and glass machines used for preserving life. As I navigate through it, however, I suddenly bump into something and hit the floor. What was it? I shake my head and there is a dark shaped figure spawning in middle of the room. I get up, trying to be quick, and strike it where a human’s ribs would be. The figure is not responsive to it. Instead, it looks down and grabs me by my head, then smashes me to the floor. The floor presses against me ever so shortly, to be followed by weightlessness, my heart is cold before I land on lower floor.  I gasp for air. But I have to be quicker. I get up again, the dark figure jumps through the shattered roof, only that it’s not stale anymore. It vibrates with dark flames, which somehow have no effect on the erratic robes wrapped around it.

I swing my fist, this time aiming the head. It catches my wrist with no trouble, and finally, I am scared. It spins me in the air and throws me through a door on the next floor. That’s where it occurs to me that leaving the crowd behind might not have been the best idea. So I get up and run.

Next is where my fear turns into panic. As I run from corridor to corridor I realize that I don’t know every part of the castle. That there are more than dark glowing monsters. That the house Reevandi’s horses are dead ones. That a trail of smoke can go through the walls and that… Ash’s tone hasn’t changed throughout the years. He is cursing, frustrated. I pause to concentrate. He is on the upper floor.

I instinctively run for the stairs and find Ash beaten down on the floor, spear pointing at his opponent. The enemy is clad shockingly similar to Tezhav, except the color. So I know it is not from our side. House Reevandi has an obsession with dark shades. But wait, it’s not a monster. It’s a He. He turns around following Ash’s look towards me upon my arrival. His face is all covered except the eyes. Human eyes; alive human eyes.

I don’t see it coming when he throws his short sword at me. In what felt like a blink of eyes, it slashes my shoulder and returns back to him. I see blood after a long time, warm like life and colored like passion. I shake my head to stop admiring it. I jump on my enemy from behind as he is striking Ash on the defensive spear. Ash seems to have an injured leg for he is still on the floor, dragging himself upwards. My enemy though treats me like the it just treated me. As if I am weightless. Throwing me away. In our code there is a line that instructs against putting yourself in danger for the life of a fellow Gladiator. I was never a code abiding person. The moment I touch the floor I am back on my feet to jump on the attacker again. I am limping this time. My enemy however, breaks the cycle. He instead holds me still and looks at my bloody shoulder and throbbing eyebrow. I stare back. And… is there shock in his gaze? Do they even feel? Are my eyes deceiving me again?

I lose him. I lose Ash. I see storm-like smoke and not my surroundings. There are chariots and dead animals. There is the glowing monster but this time my hand goes through it as I try to hit. There are bubbles and withered roses. There is Tezhav that calls me a killer. Sticky chunks of goo try to bury me, I resist, wanting to stay alive. But why? Isn’t a quick death better than being a Subject, like Ash claimed? I stroll away through thick air while my feet get stuck to the ground, pulling me in. The more I try the harder I get pulled. Then I see Raven. I wave my hand at him and say, “I don’t want to see you, go away.” But he ignores and says, “Stop lying to yourself that you have never killed anyone, his death is as much your fault as it’s mine. I did it for you!” At that moment I lose myself. My knuckles hit him instead of going through, and the touch excites me. I punch him in the face and head, over and over again. He falls down, I follow and continue attacking. Until I can’t continue. The liquid of life covers and warms my hands. I close my eyes and lay on the ground. But I go beneath the ground and float. I can feel it but I don’t want to open my eyes out of fear. Not until Tezhav utters my name. He is standing over me. “They are gone,” he says. “What were you fighting? It’s over.”

***