The Gladiator

We celebrated nature's triumph over the human scourge with a feast. How wonderful, I thought, that us creatures of the sun had restored order to a tainted land. We were a small flame of perfection in a desecrated world. Later, walking among the bodies, dried blood flaking from my claws, I felt just as unnatural as them.

Ialin Previshul

The Will of the Ancients

There is joy in this world, but it will not search for you.

Osha

The carriages rumbled into town around noon, their battered oak wheels stumbling over sun-baked plates of dirt and loose rock. The rough cacophony struck a guard tower and within minutes a welcoming party was sent to receive the caravan.

It was two days behind schedule. The horses huffed and grunted with exhaustion. One of them collapsed onto the sand and rocks, toppling a carriage into a cloud of dust. A maelstrom of vultures circled the cluster of dragon carriers - larger, metal carriages positioned in the middle of the convoy. Even in the dust a rising stink could be identified, one of perspiration and decaying flesh.

A small, pudgy man in brown lamellar bounced along the outer layer of the caravan, patting the sweat-stained drivers on their thighs and welcoming them back to the city. When he had rounded the entire caravan, and after the medical staff began to pour from the main gates in force, he moved toward the center carriages.

A burly man with a chaotic tuft of brown hair slid down from his perch on the lead carrier and stumbled to meet him.

"Smells worse than I can remember, coming back from Cozalbaria," the small man said to the driver. "How many did you lose?"

"Fifteen, last time we counted."

"Why didn't you dump some of them?" The smaller man asked, watching the vultures swim in circles overhead.

"Our fucking luck. There's at least one still alive in each carrier. I don't even know how. We managed to dump a cage yesterday, but the rest of the stubborn assholes won't seem to die."

"What gave you so much trouble?" A horse sent out its last scream into the endless desert. Euthanasia's leitmotif punctuated his sentence.

"Sandstorm for starters, that slowed us down a lot after the Bobai waterhole. Half of these fucking things were sick when we picked them up, and whatever they've got has been spreading like wildfire. Then a couple of the horses decided to take a rest right in the middle of the Zakola stretch. If you were wondering where the stench came from..." He grimaced, no doubt longing for a sip or eight of rum and an escape from the acrid fumes. The small man noticed, more out of routine than actual empathy, and waved toward the city's gates.

"Check in with the guard captain and get some rest. I'll take this mess off your hands."

The driver wasted no time in scurrying off, not giving the smaller man any chance to change his mind.

"So what do we have here?" The man asked a cloaked caretaker who was busy inspecting a damaged carrier wheel.

"Four heads, sir," he replied, not looking up from his work.

"Breeds?"

"Three Zanzo Coppers and a Crystal Hawk."

"A Hawk survived? And you're working on a damn wheel?"

The caretaker looked up at this. "Far eastern variant, sir. Should have been more clear."

"Oh," said the pudgy man. The eastern Hawks were of considerably less value. He scratched his chin. "Four survivors. What a fucking disaster."

"Tell me about it."

"Can I see the Hawk?"

"He's dead weight, sir. Terrible shape, low muscle mass, and almost eight years over training age. Maximum training age, I mean. And for a breed like that -" The caretaker shrugged. "- well, you know."

"Figures. What cage is it in?"

The cloaked man made a pointing motion toward the carriers, counted silently, rose to his feet, and walked over.

"This one, I think." He slowed to a crawl when he was closer to the carrier, weighing every step like he expected the cage to be booby trapped. The rear cloth cover was pulled away, which didn't help much vision-wise, so he started unfastening the ropes along the side of the carriage. A strained breathing could be heard on the far side of the cage through the constant buzzing of gnats.

The caretaker untied the ropes within a matter of minutes and the linen cover sagged downward. There were five blue bodies in the cage, only one of them moving. The scales of the dead bodies rippled with the movement of insects, and seemed to be tainted a seaweed green color. Vultures shrieked overhead.

"Tell your men to start hauling the bodies. That damn racket is worse than the smell."

"What about the Hawk?" asked the cloaked man.

The small man walked around to the edge of the cage where the dragon lay panting. He gave it a laconic smack on the flank and it grunted in response. "I don't think it will be giving you any trouble," he said.

The caretaker smiled.

"I mean it's not like they've got a surplus. Hey, Ka, are you even listening - " Snap snap. Yes she was listening. " - to me? Okay, so yeah, don't you think they shouldn't encourage that stuff? Fucking chain mail bikini won't do shit if one of the low grades goes berserk and takes a swipe at you in the training rings. Know what I mean? Man, I need another beer."

"It's three in the afternoon," said Kayo, "take it easy on that stuff."

"Us girls have got to stick together, you know? It's the only chance we've got." She raised her drink for a drunken sort of toast, which Kayo ignored.

"Yeah."

"Sells though, you know? Training sessions have been getting more spectators."

"So I've heard."

"The hell you so wound-up about, girl? Get a -" She stopped and blinked like she saw a fly on her nose.

"You alright?"

"Shit's strong, girl. Why don't you take a swill?"

"I don't drink," said Kayo, "you know that."

"Yeah. Because you think you're going somewhere. Right. Let me tell you something..." The other woman laughed a bubbly, intoxicated laugh and seemed to forget what she was going to say.

"I think you've had enough." Kayo reached toward the glass. Her hand was swatted away.

"Fuck you, you know that? You think you're such hot shit out there, strutting around the gold ring like you own the place, strapped into your little chain mail bathing suit while the prefect gets a hard-on. You think they really give a damn about you?"

"And sitting in here drinking yourself to death is going to win you a dragon faster?" Kayo suddenly forgot why she was here in the first place, if she ever had a reason.

Hot day. That must be it, she decided.

"People like us don't get dragons, they only give us cannon fodder." The woman knocked back another drink.

Before Kayo could respond, the door to the bar swung open and the golden sunlight washed in. The crowd of trainees shielded their eyes from the glare in a barely conscious, lethargic manner. A tanned man with a bushy cropping of brown hair limped in and sat down next to Kayo. Dirt and sweat bled down his face in large brushstroke smears. He smelled of decay.

"You going to finish that?" The man pointed to the drink on the bar top in front of Kayo.

"It's all yours," she said.

He downed it and pushed his hair back with a wide, sweat-stained palm. "Thanks. Name's Lokirha," he said.

"Kayo. Haven't seen you around here before."

"I usually try to avoid these parts." He glanced at Kayo with a mixture of exhaustion and embarrassment. "No offense, I mean."

Kayo nudged the drunken form off of her left side in disgust. "None taken."

"You a trainer?" Lokirha asked, tapping down on the counter for another beer.

"Trainee trainer. Trainer in training. A trained trainer, waiting. Well, you know how these things work."

"I'm a caravan runner, myself," Lokirha said proudly.

Kayo's jet black eyes ignited with a spark of interest. "Really now."

"Just got back from Cozalbaria. Fucking dragon run from hell, I'll tell you."

"Picked up a few sick ones?"

"Aye. They infected the whole bunch, and the heat didn't help, of course." He cringed as the beer burnt down his throat.

"How many left?" Kayo asked, voice crackling with hope long since forgotten in the misty opium-flooded air of the slums.

"A few. Seven, maybe?"

Seven, a lucky number in two ways. This conversation could wait. In a few minutes this man would be as drunk as the other woman, anyway.

"What gate?"

"What's it to you?" He asked, calling for another beer.

"I think it would be in your best interest - " Kayo cracked her knuckles against the counter. " - to tell me."

Contacts, Kayo recalled the words of a half-drunk, balding trainee overseer, are all you need. Because at this level it's your only hope.

The dragon fighting business has always been notoriously tough to break into. City government runs the rackets in most places, but private parties can manage to slip in if they can get ahold of a rare breed. Or by winning a private tournament, occasionally. Every pair of wings needs a trainer, and that's a position people can spend their entire lives trying--and often failing--to achieve.

Contacts, the poor man's road to riches. A gamble without dice. The fight to win them over a silent conflict raging on endlessly in the social arena.

You can't suck all their dicks, you know? Just not possible. Pick someone who seems productive, and stick with them, the overseer told Kayo. You might get lucky some day.

She ran with an intensity fueled by the thought that this might just be that day.

Northeast gate. Day shift. Her fucking contact.

A few. Seven maybe?

Seven whats? Coppers? Cozalbaria isn't exactly a gold mine. No matter, keep running.

The northern market whirred by. Kayo battered her way through the crowds, black hair streaking behind her.

You're a girl n' all, so you might find it easier these days. Intellectuals and shit -

Faster. Keep pumping the legs.

• b_een saying there's some chemical thing going on between dragons and their jocks. You know? Pheromones or something. Load of bullshit if you ask me, but hey! What are you gonna do, say no?_

Almost -

It's not like they've got a surplus.

• there.

"Something I can help you with, Kayo?" The pudgy man tapped his foot and watched the trainer rest on her knees, breathing wildly.

"Heard you - " Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. " - got some new dragons. Shipment. Sick... Coppers? Or..."

"Slow down and catch your breath, will you?" The man's eye twitched in what she assumed was annoyance.

"Sorry Agosha." Best not to anger him.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you're looking for one. Is that correct?"

This was obvious to all parties involved, but the mention of it bothered Kayo slightly, like her secret plans had been spread over a tabletop.

"Yes, that's correct."

He sighed. "It's a botched job. Only four survived - up until now, anyways - and they're all useless." He made a dismissive gesture to the carriers with a fan of plump fingers. Kayo noticed vultures swooping down at something in the distance.

"Breeds?"

"Three Zanzo coppers and an, Eastern - " He accented the word in disgust. " - Hawk."

A Hawk, thought Kayo, a fucking Crystal Hawk.

"You're gonna sell them off, though, right?"

"Into labor? Yeah. Now I know what you're going to say, but even if the Hawk could fight, the king doesn't take orders this small. And he can't fight."

"Why the hell not?" Kayo felt a spark of rage growing inside of her. She tied it down and tried to focus on the issue at hand. She didn't run all the way here for nothing.

"He's fifteen years old at least, the physician says. That's way past the red line for any dragon, especially Hawks. You know that."

That shoved a dagger through the spark in her chest, twisting it around and diving deeper until the spark exploded into flames. She suddenly wanted to cut this man's head off. She wanted to scream at the relentless sun and the ever-present dust and the vultures picking at the swollen blue hides, shrilling in content.

Fifteen fucking years old.

Kayo tried to make some sense of the situation. Her gate. Her contact. Everything had been set up perfectly. Every way she tried to look at it, she ended up with the sinking feeling that the gods were playing with her.

Because you think you're going somewhere.

You couldn't go anywhere with a fifteen year old Hawk, that was for sure.

People like us don't get dragons -

She could spend the rest of her life training, working, waiting for a miracle.

Waiting another day in that godforsaken bar.

"I'll take the Hawk," she said.

It didn't register with Agosha at first. He snapped on suddenly. "Excuse me?"

"I said, I'll take the Crystal Hawk."

"This a joke?"

"No, I'll buy it off you. Got the cash right here." She squeezed the coin purse strung around her hip. Hopefully she hadn't lost anything during the run.

"I've known you for a long time, Kayo. Don't throw your money away like this."

"What is the mill going to pay you? Two hundred? I can triple that."

"For what fucking purpose?"

"I'll train it."

"Bullshit."

"The hell do you care? You're getting paid aren't you? Money is money."

Agosha shook his head at this. "You're throwing away a fortune. I'd hate to see such a, fine young lady - " His eyes dragged up her figure, pausing shortly at her breasts, and locked onto her obsidian eyes. " - go to waste."

"You don't think I'm capable of deciding this for myself?"

"No."

"Well," she stammered, "you're wrong."

Agosha scratched his chin like as if he were considering this. "Even if I do sell you the damn Hawk, what's in it for me?"

The rage held inside Kayo's chest lurched upward, pulling on its leash, frothing at the mouth.

"I'm paying you triple."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be so naive. The money is not the problem. I'd be happy to offload that grimy piece of shit for the price of a young Copper, but what guarantee do I have that you won't go straight to the king and try to bag me for illegal scale trade?"

"It's not illegal if he fights in the private brackets, you know that."

"And if he escapes and kills someone? Then whose fault is it? I'm not going to jail, Kayo."

She tried to calm herself, drawing in a deep breath and saying, "I'll sign it over to me. Make a statement, you know?"

"Like a contract?"

"Get me some paper. I'll do it right now. I'll accept complete responsibility."

This seemed to win him over at first, but he still wasn't satisfied. "If you do train him - which you won't - I could use some help making checkpoint runs around the northern dunes..."

"Done."

"Alright," he said, pulling a yellow strip of paper from his pocket, "here you go. Write small."

She took the paper and, more reluctantly, the sweat-soaked stylus that came from the same pocket. One by one she wiped away any responsibilities that Agosha had in selling the beast, signing her name at the bottom.

"Here," she said.

"Your loss." He laughed, taking the slip of paper from her outstretched hand. "Six hundred and fifty."

"Five-fifty."

He looked up. "I don't have to sell it to you, you know."

"Five-fifty," she repeated.

"Very well. Six hundred."

"Five - " She paused for emphasis. " - fifty."

"No."

"I could save you a lot of time around those northern dunes."

He crumbled. "Five seventy-five."

"Done." Kayo began to slip the coin purse loose from her hip.

Agosha paused. "You're really going to do this, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, trying to focus on counting the twenty five piece coins in her palm.

When she was done sorting the coins, she shoved the remainder into her vest pocket and gave the coin purse to Agosha. He took the bag and counted them again. When he was satisfied, he slipped Kayo's oath into the bag as well.

"Alright. He's all yours."

Kayo's mind was numb with either horror or excitement. You can't plan for a day to turn out like this. "So it's a male?"

"Ask a physician. It looked like an ugly motherfucker to me so I assumed it was male." He smiled, uncovering a row of small, raptor-like teeth.

Looked. Sight. My own dragon.

"Can I go see it?" Through all of the doubt, Kayo's eyes were bright like a child receiving a new toy.

"If you want. It's tied down back near the carriers."

He pointed. Kayo saw vultures swirling.

"Thank you, Agosha," she said, trying to conceal her contempt.

"Don't mention it, you fucking psycho. Now, if you don't mind, I've got some work to do."

He went back toward the congregation of wooden personnel carriages. Kayo turned toward the vultures and dark metal cages, her rage sinking down, being replaced with something else.

Buyer's remorse. Kayo's first thought as she approached the cage cluster. The steel boxes had been hauled into a circle about thirty feet in diameter. The Crystal Hawk's bulk was laying belly-down in the center of the clearing. A group of three Coppers - angular and spiny golden dragons with long, coiling tails that danced like rattlesnakes - crowded a single cage while the vultures picked at the rest. They hacked and convulsed with sickness.

Kayo's dragon was chained to the steel base of a dismantled cage. Its neck was unbound, but it laid flat onto the steel, rising up only when a particularly brave vulture swooped down for a shot at its eyes.

Its scales were a deep, sinister shade of blue that seemed to capture the sun's rays and torture them to insanity. About twelve feet from head to haunches, Kayo wondered how long it would be with its tail uncoiled. There was no ridge of spikes running down its spine like a Northern Hawk would have. A pair of wings that looked rather small for its considerable bulk were folded across its back.

Kayo stepped lightly toward the creature and kneeled down by its side at what she considered to be a safe distance. Its gaze was savage, but Kayo saw sadness swirling like fog in the creature's blue eyes.

Dragon training starts, under optimal conditions, at three years old. Trainer-to-dragon interaction at that stage usually consists of hand-feeding, affectionate muzzle rubbing and little more. This pattern of interaction evolves up until about eight, which is the unofficial red line for even the most welcoming species. At this stage, the dragon will begin disciplinary conditioning and combat training.

As far as Kayo knew, a case this extreme had never even been attempted. She decided to start the standard routine for an older dragon in training.

"Hi there," she said in a silken voice, "my name's Kayo. I'm a dragon handler."

The creature lifted its powerful neck from the dust and twisted to stare at her with both eyes. She could see the muscles ripple beneath its powerful shoulders.

"Fuck you," it spat, and collapsed back into the sand.

Training has a funny way of brainwashing people into thinking things will be easier.

"Do you have a name I can call you?" Kayo persisted. She let the creature give it some thought, hoping to break down its first layer of defense through humility. Not exactly academy fresh - a dominant stance was almost always recommended - but the rulebook would have to be thrown out of the window for this to have any chance of working, she figured.

She waited, watching the vultures circle overhead and waving to scare them off whenever they swooped down at the dragon's neck.

After some time, the dragon spoke. "Where am I?"

The dragon was staring ahead at one of the cages, and the question had nothing resembling interest, but Kayo took it as progress.

"You're outside of a city called Faligar," she said. Curiosity overwhelmed her professional detachment, and she prodded a little, "You speak Sannovian?" Afterward, she felt like slapping herself.

"Yes I do, you ignorant little cunt. I'm from fucking Cozalbaria." The creature's voice was a jagged tenor with a rustic simplicity to it. She decided that the dragon was male, and the scale formations around his eyes tended to suggest that as well. "What else would I speak?"

"Sorry. I'm not from around these parts." She was lying, despite being born in a southern province. Her family migrated north during the Great Plague, and she had been living in and around Faligar ever since.

Throwing the rulebook out the window was not good enough - burning it would have to do.

"Is this it?" the dragon grumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"Me and those Zanzos. Are we all that made it?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." Kayo felt her already weak hold on the conversation slipping.

"Spare me your bullshit, manufactured pity will you? You should have heard them complaining about the heat while we sat there and died. Slowly. Fuck, you were probably with them. I don't recognize your smell, but that doesn't mean shit. No one could smell anything over..." He stopped.

Kayo inched closer to the dragon's side. "Did you know any of them?"

He eyed her with disgust, then curiosity. "No," he said.

She glanced back to the cage of Coppers. "You must be immune."

"My fucking luck." The dragon was staring at the vultures again, watching them clean out an eye socket of a dead Copper.

Kayo held the hilt of her short sword to her waist and tried to lie down.

"I want to help you."

No response.

"That small man you probably saw walking around? He wants to sell you into slavery. Those Zanzos over there - " She threw her thumb back over her shoulder. " - are gone too, if they survive."

"Let him try. I'll rip his fucking throat out if they unchain me."

This statement worried Kayo, more in practice than in principle. She had, after all, wanted to do the same thing a scant few minutes ago.

"Well, you're not going to work at the mills. I made sure of that." She left her statement intentionally ambiguous, trying to drive the line of questioning forward.

He sighed, as if he expected a trick of some sort. "How'd you manage that?"

"I just bought you, a few minutes ago."

"Mind explaining to me how that isn't slavery? Or is this more human paralogic?"

"I can get you out of here," said Kayo.

"You can't take me back home. I can hear it in your voice."

"No." She deflated, giving in to desperation, setting her borderline-psychotic plan into motion. "But you'll have a place to sleep. Food. A job. That sort of stuff. It's not exactly home, but that's the best I can do right now."

His eye ridges perked up. "You expect me to buy into this bullshit?"

"You're obviously intelligent enough to weigh the options, no? Although," she added, "don't think of me as a businesswoman. I know the circumstances are anything but desirable, in either direction."

"True. But what's your next step? You going to cart me into the city on this slab?" He smiled a rough, hate-filled smile and choked on the beginnings of a laugh. He's dehydrated, noted Kayo.

"No," she said, sliding in front of his muzzle and staring directly into his eyes. "I'm going to pop open these locks, and you're going to walk with me into the city."

Now he did laugh. A deep, guttural earth-shaking laugh. He looked up at her face, smiling maniacally, either to enforce the point or avoid the rather awkward view of her linen panties she was giving him.

"You must be fucking crazy," he said.

"Hey," she said, spreading her arms apart, "what do I have to lose?"

She felt like mirroring his laugh, but her last shred of awareness stopped her from doing so.

"I mean," she continued, "I just spent twelve years worth of savings on a dragon that's probably going to end up killing me. I'm piss broke at the moment, and I can't go back. So the way I see it, you can maul me here, or you can follow me back to my place, where I can answer any questions you have, and let you decide what you want to do.

"Besides, nothing would piss off that fat sack of shit Agosha like seeing a dragon he was planning to sell to the mills walk past him and into the city, free as a fucking bird." She smirked. "So what do you say? Actually - don't say anything!

"I'll just - " She started walking around the cage base, drawing her short sword and jamming it into one of the locks. " - pop these babies loose, and let you decide."

One by one the locks cracked open and fell limply to the ground. When all of the locks were undone, she stepped back.

He shot up in a flash of indigo - uneven and shoddily executed, probably due to fatigue, but the movement was deathly fast - and positioned his muzzle directly in front of her nose. Her short sword never raised an inch in defense.

He crouched there like a blue, oversized wolf and said, "My name is Rolashestul - "

So he is a male, she thought.

" - but Rolas will do just fine."

"Nice to meet you, Rolas." She sheathed her short sword.

"Lead the way," he hissed in an indecipherable tone.

Halfway through the short walk back to the city gates, the pair passed by Agosha, who was carrying a large wooden crate. He looked up and froze. To Kayo's surprise, Rolas ignored the man and quickened his pace toward the city. Kayo followed eagerly.

When she heard the crash of a wooden crate dropping to the ground, followed by a high-pitched yelp of pain, she couldn't help but smile.