Gauntlet

San attempted to meditate in the bumping cart, but she worried Marko would get a concussion so she wiggled her body across the cart. Luckily, her bound arms were tied in front of her so she could still grab at things as she awkwardly moved.

Taking his curly brown hair into her fingers, she tried her best to prop herself up against the wall of the cart, placing his head in her lap. As her legs had yet to be covered by the gauntlet, they were still softer than the steel floor of the cart.

Shutting out the shaking, thudding, and frigid breeze, she closed her eyes, slowly finding herself growing warm and relaxed despite the horrible situation, but that warming heat soon grew to a fire as she felt the gauntlet’s craving seeping into her mind. Fighting its need to kill him, she smashed against the wall next to her,instead of crushing the boys head. The sizeable dent and loud bang not bothering the jailers but Marko certainly awoke to the noise.

His eyes shot open as he didn’t know where he was or how he got on the beautiful woman’s lap, if she was the one who bound them and they were off to their honeymoon, but she ignored his questions.

Closing her eyes again and forcing her mind to wonder about Hyde, hoping he wouldn’t be lonely and miss her too much, her mouth salivated thinking of the mushrooms he would find and bring to her. Swallowing her mouth full of saliva brought her back to the cold box on wheels, but only for a moment as her neglect to Marko soon sent him back to sleep as her own senses shut off.

♮

 The cart slowed as her body swayed to the shift in momentum, still unconscious, the bars to her kennel had opened and hands reached in and carried their bodies down a labyrinth of tunnels, leaking with neglect and smelling of mildew, they stopped at a particular a filthy cell with two other bodies in it, sleeping as well.

Gently setting the bodies down, they continued to try and rest for hours until a knife on a stick reached through the bars, slowly carving away at San’s binds from a safe distance, snapping the rope, the man behind the bars tossed a cup of water at her to wake her up. Gasping from the shock, she was presented with a familiar scent. Cooked rice.

Through a small hole in the bottom of the cage, just big enough for a human head to fit, two buckets were passed through, one with the sweet nostalgic smell of rice, the other just fresh green beans. This wasn’t the worst meal San had ever eaten, it was much like what she was raised on. Lifting the wooden lid to one of the containers as the steam flooded her nostrils, a wave of guilt washed over her preemptively as she thought she better share with Marko.

But looking around the cell, torches outside the bars illuminated enough to see silhouettes of three figures. She approached the first and placed her hand on its back, a soft grunt came but as she touched along broad shoulders defined with muscles, she could tell this person was much larger then Marko.

“Wake up, we have food,” San said to the enormous body that only gave another grunt as it sat up, dwarfing San.

“You won’t get much out of her I’m afraid,” another voice spoke out from the shadows. Looking to the small figure to her left, he continued “I’ll introduce myself over supper if you want to untie your friend,” the voice said as the silhouette of an arm shot out to where the last figure had been lying.

With Marko freed and awake, the four sat around the two wooden pots, closer to the bars so what little light came from the hall could dance across their faces.

“My name is Tyson,” the man explained, “I come from Hortons, in the north. My lineage comes from a long line of wealth, and ultimately, I felt hollow with my existence. So I joined my country’s military but ended up abandoning my troop in Ponswasie when I was forced to kill children. I was caught by the troop I tried to flee from, dying of thirst in a desert, and they jailed me as criminal and cut off both my legs as punishment” he said lifting his torso up with his muscular arms that had probably became chiseled out of necessity rather than vanity.

“After leaving my home, disgusted by the government, I drifted in a small boat for a while till I came across Matilda’s village, walking on my hands through their bizarre for supplies I found the poor girl and tried to ask her to pass me something as she was so vertically inclined. She did without hesitation, but when I asked her name, she could only tell me through scribbles on parchment that she was an orphan sold to cruel owners for pennies. These owners had cut out her tongue for talking back, I was furious and offered her previous owners a price they couldn’t refuse.”

Stopping to join in the feast Tyson later explained that ever since then they had been traveling together in the hopes to free all the orphans, maybe start an orphanage of their own and put a little good in the world, but their travels had been cut short.

“We’ve been here for what feels like months,” he explained. “This arena is a cruel test to weed out the strongest people they can kidnap, as well as serve as some sort of entertainment for the warlord Flint,” finishing the last of his small portion he continued.

“We must win three fights against other groups similar to ours, if you win three times, you are given the option to join them as you will be paid quite handsomely for doing his dirty work or leave blindfolded so you never find the place again. We were close to finishing, Matilda and I, along with two other adventurers, we had won our first battle, and the second, but the other two didn’t make it so we were given the choice to fight again and risk dying, but if we win were free, or restart. And as you can see, we reset.”

“Why not just fight back against the guards?” San asked in a hushed voice in case one was listening.

“They poisoned you on the way over, look there on your shoulder.”

San looked down at her exposed shoulder, it had a pinprick that a large bruise had formed around.

“That poison won’t affect you for quite some time, it sits and rests in your blood, waiting, at the end of every fight, we were given small antidotes to keep it at bay, until the third fight, then you’re given the vile that fully cures you, it’s a convenient way to trap us all here.”

Hours passed as the talking faded to silence. San wasn’t much in the mood for sharing, and Marko was too worried about his horse and the thought of San almost killing him in his sleep to hold much of a conversation, but the silence was broken by a guard unlocking their cell.

He was fully suited in thick armor plating with a longsword resting on his hip. “This way,” he commanded. The party followed him out, down the musty halls as the air’s quality slightly improved, opening to a large training hall.

The walls were lined with armor and equipment, weapons of every flavor, and dummies to practice on, the cobble walls led to a massive skylight as a glass dome covered the roof, letting real light touch their skin, breathing life into their spirits.

San was drawn to a curved dagger resting on an illuminated wall graced by the tilting sun, feeling its weight, she tried striking the air a few times and decided it would do, fitting it into her sheath, she looked out at her comrades.

Tyson bore little armor, metal rimmed leather gloves acted as shoes for his hands while two thin long swords rested on his back, a magnetic harness allowed for quick release of the blades, clearly aiming to be as fast as possible to secure his kills. Matilda, on the other hand, went in the opposite direction, dawning full heavy armor over her seven-foot figure and a large wooden mallet with the head surpassing Tyson’s size, wielded in both her hands, she looked terrifying. While last and most likely least, Marko had a light buckler to hide behind with a spear and shoulder plating, a helmet, and cape. Why a cape? San never knew, and she feared ruining the confidence it brought him if she pried.

“So what have you got, lass?” Tyson asked, as San’s cloak still hid her gauntlet and holstered dagger.

“Hope,” she responded, cracking a wicked grin on Tyson’s face. Standing on a single hand, he squeezed her armored bicep as his eyes widened with surprise. “I guess so,” he said as the gauntlet reacted, whipping around to catch his throat while San fought back with her left hand. Hopping away for his own safety back over to Matilda, the room was silent as everyone else tried their best not to stare, focusing on themselves to prepare. But still hoping their own teammates wouldn’t be the one to kill them.

Sitting cross-legged far away from the others, San hoped she could prepare in silence, trying to calm her mind and visualize how the fight might go, assuming they would have four in their party as well, she imagined identifying their biggest threat and removing him first, she truly wished Hyde had spent more time sparring with her though. They only had bi-weekly sessions that would replace the morning exercises, and those were more of an exercise to control the gauntlet’s appetite, which clearly should have happened more than every second Monday.

In the beginning, they were rough, and she could tell Hyde never actually tried his hardest, only being bested once when his guard was down, but he made sure never to let that happen again. Focusing on everything she did right in her spars with Hyde put her in good spirits, she liked her odds at fighting normal warriors compared to her impenetrable teacher, and even though she knew she shouldn’t be, she was excited to test her metal.

Unfolding her legs to stretch, San covered her normal routine and was about to do it again when a guard opened the door across the room, “It’s time,” he commanded as he walked away, leaving the door open as two other guards appeared behind them from the exit, making sure they did as they were told.