The Arena [PG 13+]

[Suicune's Fire]

The Arena

Herro! 8D So this is a story I started sometime last year, but lost inspiration for over a long duration of time. Then one day my inspiration was revived and I wrote more. xD Eventually I finished the first chapter, and it's been done for months now (at least this whole year), though I have no idea where it's going.

I wanted to post this to see what people thought, and truth be told, I need help with an actual plot. XD I have something very vague, but it's hardly any sort of storyline.

Setting:
It's set in Ancient Roman-esque times, although it's not meant to be our Romans. xD I don't want to be historically incorrect or portray them wrong. Anyway, that's the sort of era I'm going for, so there's no technology or anything modern-day.

Inspiration:
Originally this was inspired by Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and its arena in the Imperial City. I loved fighting in that place. xD I thought it would be awesome for pokémon fights, actually. When that ran out, the story began to be inspired by the Stars TV show Spartacus: Blood and Sand (and the following seasons), which is where the language/speaking style also came from. It's about gladiators who fight in an arena, namely Spartacus, an actual human in history. It's their adaptation of the tale, however. XD Anyways, the story might bear certain similarities to the show, although I'll certainly try to avoid them.

Theme Song: My Curse by Killswitch Engage - starts at 14:33. I had to link to the album because I couldn't find the right version of the song except in really crappy quality...aside from this video. xD SORRY.

Heads up: I rated this PG 13 in the title, but I think it's actually a little worse than that. XD It'll be rather gory, which is mostly Spartacus' fault. XDD I'll refrain from swearing though...even though they do that in the show, like, every two seconds. lolol.

.;Chapters;.

I
The Condemnation

Thanks for reading! 8D

~SF.

[Suicune's Fire]

I
The Condemnation

Two eyelids slid open, revealing golden irises under a pale light. Clouds of fuzz blurred a creature’s vision as a cough spluttered from his jaws. He turned to the ground, binding his eyes once more to blink out the haze. A sickly feeling tickled his stomach and prodded his head, and separated aches festered in many places at once. Reopening his eyes, he pressed his strong paws against the solid earthy surface, steadying himself as he nearly slipped on something under his paws. A sudden stench seized his nostrils as he regained balance and he recoiled in shock; he knew this smell intimately.

Blood.

Discovering a gash on one of his paw-pads and the same leg’s shoulder, he frowned and threw his head around to spot his drooping tail. Teeth marks scathed his left thigh, and as he made a move to lick his wound, one side of his jaw yipped with pain.

He furrowed his brow, unable to understand the sudden change in his environment. Discomfort hammered his nerves in various places, and a moan was all he could manage before he inhaled and tried to interpret his murky surroundings. His eyes were still smeared with clouds, and he could barely make out more than dull colour. His ears, however, made it obvious that there were many more creatures nearby.

He drew his paw, the one connected to the leg that caused the puddle, and used the other three to back up, and it only took a number of paces before his rump touched the wall composed of what felt like stone. He leapt forward in an instant, regrettably aggravating the wounds he had discovered upon awakening and whirled around. Ancient splatters of blood tainted the wall, shrouding it with its darkened stains mingled with waste and clumped sand.

As the pokémon surveyed the cell with narrow eyes and a wary composure, he marked his bounds, padding lowly to the vertical bars braced between the ceiling and the floor marking each wall but the one behind. With erect ears and a curl embedded on his muzzle, he growled at the thought of being imprisoned. None of it quite made any sense, but he figured that further investigation would perhaps serve him well.

Assorted scents crammed into his nostrils as he paid his sense of smell some heed, and several sights joined with them, making slight sense in a collection. More cells on the opposite side of a large open room seemed to materialise and border the space, and as each creature contained inside began to stir and calculate their surroundings, grunts and squeals of protest and indignation rattled the still air. Calls of distress prickled his ears and forced him to concentrate harder, and through the hoots and howls he was able to distinguish the tones and sounds of certain species. Not many, however, as the infrequent placement of torches burning faintly was inadequate for identifying most of the silhouettes. He was marginally relieved to find other pokémon at all, though, but in a situation where they were all sealed inside large cages, seeing others was not exactly a positive thing. More prisoners.

The confused creature continued to scan the square room with a curious eye. The left and right walls of the room were not lined with cages, but bore entrance and exit points; one per side. He became aware that the room was contained underground as he noticed the ceiling was an expanse of packed dirt stretching overhead. There was no light apart from the burning torches, either, which further supported his theory.

He clenched his jaws together, incapable of comprehending why he would have chosen to go to such a place. Reconsidering the thought, he tossed his head about, once again noting the metal bars sealing him in. ‘Metal bars,’ he thought angrily, tensing his toes and feeling his claws extend. He only found the sights obscuring his thoughts distracting, so he bound his eyes and lowered his head, searching his mind for any memory of a capture that may have taken place, or a trap that could have led him astray. It was clear that humans were responsible for something in this equation, as it was unheard of for pokémon to trap other pokémon as he was trapped. The rods to his front, left and right; the giant room holding other cages like his; the distressed cries...none of that was a pokémon’s work. He wondered what humans were responsible, and why they had an interest in him or any of the others. ‘They have no business with me or...’ Suddenly his eyes unsealed and he shot up, instantly recalling all that had happened. What the day had been, what his intentions were and who he had been with. “Mana.”

Wasting no time, he whirled around, trying with difficulty to decide which direction first to check. Knowing he had to investigate them all anyway, he bolted to the edge of the left side of the cell first, pressing his head against the restricting poles and emitting a rumble. The torches reflected into the cages with a dim, dusky shine that only lit part of the cells, and as he strained in what light was cast, he identified not a colour, but the tail of the pokémon lying inert on the dusty floor. It was scaly and pale, and attached to a furry figure obviously still unconscious. Mana wasn’t a raticate. Focusing his attention at the cage after that he, noted that there were more than one pokémon. There were three, although only one was a quadruped, and that looked to be an enraged poochyena, its grey fur jolting about as the pokémon ran along the front of the cage, gnawing and yipping at the odd metal bar as it passed. Briefly he singled out other captives further away, but had little success as the darkness shaded the distance.

Scowling deeper and tearing from the useless direction, he fled to the opposite side, his narrow tail straightened behind him as he felt a twinge of pain spike his shoulder and thigh. He accidentally slammed into the bars on the right side as he miscalculated the distance, but steadied himself and easily disregarded the collision. He dug through the cage with his eyes for any sign of his mate, but it contained only a duo of long, dark snake-like pokémon with enormous red fangs. A thought of derision crossed his mind as he envied them for the possibility of being able to escape between the bars, but it took him not a moment to analyse the puzzle pieces; they were too large to fit through.

He ignored the seviper and searched frantically past to the cell beside theirs, and kept his eyes still as he spotted a figure like himself. The furry black and blue body, the large rounded ears, the rigid tail bearing a pointed golden shape on the end... It had to be her. “Mana!” he shouted, his voice firm and solid. When the figure didn’t stir, he breathed deeper, repeating her name with more volume.

The seviper turned and threw glares of scorn mixed with fright. He could tell the latter was not his doing; judging by the shouts and wails of pokémon from nearby cells and the ones opposing him across the room, the majority of pokémon had not a clue of what was happening, and apparently these seviper did not have different tales to tell.

An immense wave of relief flowed from his head and through his body, tingling through his legs as the figure in the near distance raised her head and twisted it around her shoulder, as her back lay facing his direction. She immediately rose to her paws, rushing to the metal barred wall and blinking as she presumably tried to adjust to the darkness. It didn’t take her long to trace the contour of her mate, and with a cry she responded to his calls.

“Typhen!” she yelled, eyes thickly glazed with fear. Even at a distance, Typhen could see her legs trembling.

“Stay calm,” he suggested in an attempt to reduce her panic. His face projected an assurance that he wasn’t entirely sure of, but wore it for her sake. She continued to stare, breathing uneven and chest jerky. He removed his gaze to further investigate the room, cocking his head back and bending his back legs to inspect the ceiling. His vision proved useless as the light failed to stretch the lengths of the dirt above, but he kept his mind on one thing at a time. He would search the cell for imperfections.

As he tilted his head back, something dug into his skull and the skin at the top of his back. He formed a frown, somehow only then noticing a rubber collar covering a metal inside wrapped around his neck. He could feel that the metal didn’t border the side of it that rested atop his fur, and suddenly a bolt of worry shuddered through his limbs. The collar did not bear any spikes or physically painful elements, so he assumed that its purpose was not to injure him, but possibly contain his electric powers. His bit his bottom lip and drew a deep breath, a newfound sense of worry planting itself into his chest.

He backed up, aiming at a small nick in the wall that the dim glow of the torches highlighted. A small focus of energy sparked in his chest and he ducked his head, feeling the strong energy well inside his body before finding an exit at the tip of each strand of fur. The electricity, instead of rocketing from his hairs and connecting with the indent, was drawn to the metal on the collar and then absorbed into the rubber coating.

The room illuminated as he continued to force the coursing energy from his insides and his eyes were blinded by the intense light that pooled around his neck, reaching out in all directions. His muscles tensed and his claws dug deeper into the earthy floor, his snarl expanding until his face ached.

The strain took its toll on his body as he collapsed with exhaustion. Usually when he fired electricity to a target before him, he drained the constantly generating energy inside of his body and created more in the instant to replace it, and the cycle would continue until the organs grew tired from the work. But when his target was nothing more than rubber, his efforts were doubled in an attempt to sever the chains of reality and defeat the collar encasing his neck. The electricity had nowhere to go but to dissipate, and it felt as though it was not leaving his body at all. His limbs began to seize, and he shook with a terrible sensation he was not familiar with. He assumed that the metal could project the electricity back into his body, while most of it soaked into the rubber and was abolished.

A sudden horrid feeling of hopelessness and weakness dawned on him, applying pressure to his mind and keeping his body pressed against the earth. He felt his tail droop and his ears sink as his heart descended through his chest.

He was incapable of commanding electricity.

His whole life he had defended himself with teeth, claws and an outpour of lightning which had the ability to paralyse an opponent or render an enemy unconscious as it tore through their veins. It was a part of who he was. He was unsure if the collar would remain, or for how long, and he greatly feared it would be the end of his ability to project electricity forever. Quickly he wondered if Mana too had a collar, and came to the conclusion that, as another electric type, she would most certainly have had the same treatment. If their captors were humans, which seemed the only explanation, then it would have made sense that they were afraid of such a power being used against them. He considered other pokémon born with powers to harness flame and water, wondering if they had devices clamped around their necks, ankles, or tails, that would prevent them from defending themselves too. The thought was confronting, unjust, and in need of adjustment.

Hours passed and Typhen spent the majority of the time by the right wall of his cell, where he could keep his longing eyes on his mate through the bars. She stared back at him, occasionally closing her eyes and drifting off, only to wake minutes later when the ruckus escalated for no particular reason. Partway through his stay in the cage, a number of humans entered the room from the right end, carrying elongated wagons piled with unconscious pokémon, which were deposited into random cells. Two had been thrown into his, and the first time a human approached his cage to open it, he had lunged forward, swiping his paw between the iron. To counter such offences, humans wearing less extra pelt than others carried large pots brimming with boiling water, which they tossed at him and scalded one of his paws. He was fortunate not to have more serious burns, as he was agile and alert enough to anticipate the attack and leap back.

As they added a roommate, he remained in the far corner, away from the gate as it creaked open quickly, and just enough for a mess of unconscious feathers to thump against and roll across the dirt. They clanged the gates shut and moved onto another cage, dumping more pokémon with the same methods. He had witnessed some pokémon attempt to ignore the boiling water and try an escape when the gate was opened, but the metal-clad humans raised their swords and some jabbed as an immediate response, unafraid to piece the prisoners’ flesh and spill blood. The sight was startling and, although it was not uncommon that he saw blood, he made it his business to turn away and shield his eyes from sights unwanted. The innocents stuffed into cages who merely desired their freedom – what was taken from them – were mercilessly punished. He had a poisonous feeling that these humans cared not for any pokémon’s wellbeing. He only hoped that their plan for him did not involve ignoring his. Or, more importantly, his mate’s.

The second time they had come to his cell, he remained obediently at the back, his eyes darkened by a steady radiation of hate resonating from his mind. The humans paid him no heed as a third addition to his cage was added, and thankfully he needed not to hold back the first to accompany him, as he still lay unconscious. It silently made him wonder how long he had been absent of consciousness himself.

The pokémon shrouded in feathers of dense sienna twitched and stirred as the luxio lay in the corner, one blue ankle striped with yellow resting atop the other. He narrowed his sable eyes and watched without moving. Slowly a round, fuzzy head rose and two triangular eyes blinked, pointing their gaze aimlessly around the cell. An elongated beak aided the direction and squeaked in response to the sight of the electric type.

The luxio said nothing as the opposing pokémon’s body unsteadily rose to his feet, three necks accompanied by their own head lifting with it. Each stared at him with a separate expression and differing intentions, pausing to keep their gazes firmly set. The middle head displayed a face of wariness and marginal alarm, but kept its cool composure; the left bore a pleading face with eyes as clouded with confusion as their target had been upon his arrival; the third head was lit with a sense of cautionary rage, looking to have found something to focus blame toward. The dodrio stood, legs tall and scaly, and watched the luxio with plastered faces. Neither uttered a sound.

Typhen looked away, casting his controlled face to the right to see through the seviper cage and to his mate. He acknowledged her new company: a grey bipedal pokémon with thighs and a head piece of magenta. From afar he could not tell of the pokémon’s gender, but watched as calmness occupied the medicham’s position in meditation. He met Mana’s deflated gaze, her chin upon her front paws as she watched with a miserable quietness. He ached to lick her face to tell her all would be as it had been, and that they may escape together, perhaps through difficulty, but eventually.

His claws pulsed as his eyes slipped to the scrapes along the ground, reminding him of his effort to unearth the soil. It was far too compact; its immense density prevented any such attempt to excavate. His right paw seared in particular, mostly the result of the boiling water, and partly worsened by the digging. He had pressed it lightly against a chilled vertical rod to soothe the heat against the coldness of the metal, and continued to do so until it had settled into a more bearable state.

“Where are we?” grunted a forlorn voice from the other end of the cell. Typhen turned his attention to the bird pokémon, who sounded as disoriented and unfamiliar with his new location as he had been.

“I know not,” the middle head answered, rotating carefully and allowing his eyes to flick from one part of the ceiling to the next. Unfailingly he repeatedly returned to the luxio which he clearly believed could yet be a potential threat, but employed no accusatory gestures. The head to the luxio’s right not once removed his glare, burning with heated suspicion. In turn, Typhen remained still, his gaze unchallenging but subtly cautious.

“Who is he?” demanded the head on the right. The voice was the same as the other two’s, but his tone, lowered and harsh, gave him appropriate distinction.

“Threat?” the one to the left spat with a mask of alarm. His eyes lit up with the fiery possibility of a theory. “What is your business? Why are we here?”

Typhen felt a frown very gently caress his brow, but allowed it to grow no more. He was unsure if verbal exchange was necessary yet; he had found himself awake to this odd place and determined his own opinion, and he only thought it fair that this dodrio had the same experience.

After a number of seconds, no words passing through the electric type’s lips as he continued to remain still, the dodrio head looked to grow more panicked and suspicious, and he could tell by his jittering legs that whatever composed state he may have had a chance at being in was rapidly waning.

With no further warning, the pokémon’s powerful legs propelled him forward, the head to his left belching a cry that merely mingled with the assortment of sounds already ringing through the underground room. The rate at which he moved was surprising, and as soon as the luxio had a split second to acknowledge his position, he shoved the ground and sprung away, the opposing pokémon’s talons landing where he had been. If the ground hadn’t been, as he assumed, specifically designed to prevent digging, the claws surely would have gouged out a decent piece.

Whirling around where he had landed, Typhen felt his fur prickle and his breathing circulate with a faster tempo. His eyes locked onto the flying type, who turned and mindlessly charged once more. His target bolted toward the wall looking into the room, and registered audio confirmation that the dodrio didn’t stop, and altered his course. Soon the two were in a circular pursuit, although it was clear that the sienna pokémon was quickly catching up. His powerful strides were no match for the quadruped’s shorter and weaker bursts of movement, and the notion entered the luxio’s mind with a wave of panic. However, he kept his doubt sheathed as he tried to analyse the situation.

Figuring it best that he continued to move, he angled his head over his right shoulder and called, “Why are you after my blood?” He cringed as the pace didn’t decrease, his right paw stinging with the pressure he had to apply in the clockwise circle they ran.

The dodrio didn’t reply as he thudded each foot one after the other, claws scraping the hardened earth. From the corner of his eye, Typhen noticed that the pokémon’s middle head looked less than comfortable with the situation, and decided to place his focus on him.

“Why do you give chase?” he repeated, trying to catch the central head’s gaze. His voice was controlled but at threat of altering with the urgency he could feel seeping through his mind.

“I do not control the legs,” claimed the head in the middle, and as the luxio tried to comprehend this, he found himself continuously puzzled.

“Calm your fellow heads,” demanded Typhen as their circular motion continued.

“One head cannot control another,” began the dodrio, a cringe moulding his face. “Merely persuade.”

“Persuade, then!” the response was, but he heard no reply. After a moment to focus on his speed, feeling the growing exhaustion snaking from his chest, he gritted his jaws together and realised that the head he had been speaking to did not respond, and probably planned not to. ’This cannot continue,’ determined the electric type, and, heading toward a wall, planned to direct himself toward it. He found it marginally difficult, as routine had gripped his legs, and mistakenly missed the opportunity.

After he rounded the course another time, he focused harder; once he broke the cycle and was about to collide with the barred wall, he angled his body left just to avoid contact with his head, knocking his right side against the rods. His hip and shoulder hissed with pain and he clenched his teeth together more tightly, flinging his head left to gain a view of the cage. The dodrio, evidently confused, skidded to a halt on the opposite side and flung all three heads at their target.

“Stop,” ordered the luxio, and although he knew it gave his opponent pause for that moment, the words of a stranger, even in a plea, was not enough to ground his strong scaly legs. “I awoke the same as you,” he clarified in an exhalation. After a rough five seconds of heaving and watching the dodrio doing the same, he found it safe to remove his gaze, giving the feathered pokémon reason to doubt any threat the luxio could pose, and surveyed the cell. His eyes switched to the bird pokémon several metres from him, and then to the remainder of the room to his left, out a screen of metal bars that marked their captivity.

Warily the dodrio’s middle head followed the luxio’s line of sight and assessed the open space appearing to be underground. After a quick utter, another head turned, and the two noted the expanse of gravelly earth stretching the length of the room, noticing the single row of cells the size he currently stood in that lined the wall on the opposite side. The caged pokémon inside, some as distressed – some more so – as the dodrio himself, were no more or less hopeless than he.

With a sudden recoil of shock, he caught sight of a few inert pokémon in the odd cage, their forms completely still in a puddle of their own blood. The third head finally joined in to view the situation of one cell in particular: previously it had contained four captives, but only one, what could have been a clearly mentally deranged vigoroth, huddled in the back corner as the other three inhabitants lay with severed limbs or fatal wounds. The details were impossible to determine from such a distance, but the assumption that the normal type had slain each of them was strong enough to convince the bird pokémon of the most likely situation.

Silently horrified, the pokémon rotated his heads toward the luxio, his stance having melted into a weak position of mental ache and realisation. The middle head held the electric type’s eyes with the least shame and difficulty. Typhen was convinced he would have spoken if words could have escaped his beak. However, through experience, he understood that nothing could have described the feeling one felt upon casting their gaze to such sights.

They continued to stare, the luxio not moving his tempered glare to the left or right heads, the frequent breaths passing to and from his lungs. He felt certain muscles slowly release their tension, ensuring it didn’t happen all at once in case the opposing pokémon became startled and decided once more to tail him. He felt his right paw pulse again with the same discomfort exampled to him before as his tail remained erect, holding the pose of intimidation in order to convince the dodrio – one way or another – to ally with him. He assumed the pokémon desired an alliance as much as he, even one mutually founded on means of business or the instinct of survival. Allowing an eye to stray and briefly trickle over the captives opposite their side of the room, he knew one thing: two pokémon teamed with each other had more chance of survival – of whatever imminent events they would be forced to endure – than one. If the bird pokémon realised the same thing in coming time, hopefully they would be joined in a short time.

It took another pawful of minutes before the sienna flying type drew a leg closer, terminating his stance of both threat and defence, as the six eyes remained planted upon the electric pokémon. Typhen understood that trust was something not wisely used in excess, and knew that sometimes its use, in any kind of measure, was difficult. Trust itself had to be trusted, as well as the being choosing to utilise its effects. Had the situation not been dire, the luxio would have spared such potentially failing feelings for any other pokémon. The dodrio, he assumed, had a similar philosophy, and watched as his position became casual with a contribution of expected rigidity. In turn, Typhen withdrew his remaining actions of caution and allowed his gaze to rest, decreasing in wariness. He began breathing steadily once more as his breath caught up with him, but he made the decision to not yet make advances on any friendship that could possibly bloom. He wanted to ensure he could place his contemplated trust in the bird pokémon, of course, and discover whether he could be named true friend.

“Your minds fill with doubts. The same ones I share,” the luxio proposed, quite sure he and his cellmates’ thoughts were on the same side of a tarnished, trampled leaf. The head to his right looked to snarl a bit, probably discrediting his claim. He came to assume that the right head was one of scepticism and hostile caution. He had heard of dodrio before, but had never encountered one.

“You cannot possibly know what each of us is thinking,” the right one snapped.

“I speak assumptions based on your body’s reaction.” He gestured toward the middle head. “If what that one says is true, you and the others control the legs of your shared body.”

“Precaution is necessary,” hissed the right head, angling his face toward the ground while keeping his gaze unmoving. The perspective created a darker look.

Typhen kept his eyes still. “One would be the fool not to know such.”

The middle head turned to his glaring companion, seemingly disapproving of his behaviour. “Right yourself,” he spoke, and returned to Typhen. “Apologies on his behalf.”

“Unneeded,” grunted the luxio. “Situations such as these warrant caution.”

“Yes,” the middle head agreed, giving a nod.

“Do you know where we are?”

Typhen gave a weak shake of his head. “I do not.” He tossed a glance to the room outside their cell and then through the bars on one side of the cell, allowing his eyes to settle upon his mate. She had not moved from her laying position.

“Does anybody know?” asked the middle head, and Typhen’s gaze returned to him.

“No,” he confirmed. The dodrio head looked away, but the luxio corrected himself, adding, “I have not asked.”
The head of rage, who had not removed his eyes from their cellmate the entire time, questioned, “Then how do you come by the assumption that nobody else knows?”

“Their reactions,” grunted Typhen rather casually, a stern look painted upon his face. “They squirm and writhe, as worms who know not that they are in the beaks of ravens. We are no different.”

“Who is he?” Demanded another voice, the third and most anxious head as he bore holes with his eyes into the crumpled figure lying but a few metres from ether of them.

The pokémon still lay inert and had not shown signs of movement the entire time. “He slumbers,” answered Typhen. “His identity yet undiscovered.” He took a moment longer to draw half a conclusion. “He is a raticate.”

“Scavengers,” scoffed the angered head, glaring at the body.

Typhen’s gaze turned to him. “A dodrio’s beak is the correct shape for scavenging, is it not?” The head whipped back to him, eyes ablaze with fury. The other heads turned somewhat angrily, but hardly rose to match that of their left head. “Long and slender; ideal for ripping and tearing flesh after boring into their insides.”

The dodrio squawked in response, and he moved his leg, taking an angered step forward while the other leg remained. “Stop it. He only teases,” the middle one reasoned, a stern face disapproving as he stared at the luxio.

The electric type showed no indication that he was making a mockery of this pokémon. “I do not mean to offend. I merely state the anatomy similarities; I never implied that you yourself ravage dead bodies.” He thought back to the many times that he had gained a rather appropriate meal from prey that was already dead. “If that were your preference, no judgement would be made.”

“Your tongue wags and lies are produced as easily as talk about the weather,” hissed the right head, and Typhen raised his furry brow.

“If I desired to spill a lie, it would not be toward meaningless end.”

“‘Tis not meaningless,” corrected the head. “You avoid conflict. My brothers cannot see past the veil you so cleverly shield your true intent with. I do. I cast it aside.” His eyes narrowed.

“Brothers?” restated the luxio.

“Yes,” the middle head began, drawing breath to expel it shortly after. “We are not as one.”

“Not as one?” A frown remained on the electric type’s face.

“Each of our kind is not of a mere single mind that controls three heads. In each head is a separate brain to control separate thoughts, needs and desires.” He glanced to the heads either side of him, as if to confirm. “Sorrow and anger. I bear the mark of mediator, and, as I am told, happiness. Although one is lucky to encounter such a thing. Happiness rarely shows itself.”

The luxio was not interested enough to question, and nor did he want to upset them further. His goal was not to make enemies; if he could help it, he desired quite the opposite. In an effort not to anger the head on his right further, he remained silent as another hour slipped away.

A groan was murmured from the back of the cage, a form beginning to stir before rising to its small back feet. A cream underside hid as it faced the ground, a tan back and the majority of what could be seen. The pokémon frowned, eyes glazing with a film of fluid common after waking, and he sat on his hind legs, beginning to survey the area. He did not jump in surprise as he laid eyes on the other pokémon in his cell, and quickly analysed his position. He hoped these pokémon were not hoping to harm him, because he might not have stood a chance.

His tail supported him from the back as two front legs curled around as paws, and felt his whiskers twitching as he scented the air. The smell was foul, as a site of death would be. The sounds – hissing and shouting, crying and screeching – reached his ears as he kept his eyes on a bird pokémon and a quadruped. Both were looking his way, and only after the latter turned his head in disinterest did the raticate begin to feel somewhat safe, or at least not at a considerable disadvantage. At least there was no display of hostility, he thought...except for one of the bird pokémon's three heads.

It was a long number of minutes before the normal type spoke up, inquiring about the location and the purpose of their transportation to such a place. One of the dodrio heads answered, so Typhen was free to relax himself for the moment; in no way was he unaware or not alert, but he allowed his mind to temporarily settle as his body already had, calmly situated against the packed earth.

It wasn’t long before the entire room was in some kind of uproar. Pokémon of all kinds expressed their emotion as they worked it into shouts both measured and uncontrolled, yelling about and stirring Typhen from his period of momentary relaxation. His ears shot up and his head whirled around to see a number of pokémon from across the room, locked in their cages, thrashing against the sides of the metal bars, while looking his way. He was temporarily startled that so many pokémon, as the ones in the cages surrounding him also seemed to be doing, would show hostility to him and the two others in his cell when they had evidently done nothing to offend these pokémon.

The luxio soon realised that the dodrio and raticate were focused elsewhere—the cage next to them, on the right. Earlier he had deduced that a family of seviper were the cell’s captives, and the three of them had been there the entire time. However, what he hadn’t seen the first time was a seviper a quarter of the parents’ size. He concluded that it was the baby, and it looked to be rapidly squeezing its way out through the bars of the cell and drawing the attention of all those around it.

Engrossed in the effort, the electric type jolted to his paws and neared the bars separating their cells. He peered through, watching as the parents encouraged this small snake pokémon to fit through the bars. The baby looked uncomfortable and largely frightened as he tried to squirm through, but at the same time, it was clear he was determined. Typhen could just about guarantee that it was because of the pressure forced upon him, and believed that the child was clearly against the idea of separating from his family. He realised that the roaring crowd was filled with both shouts of encouragement and yells of jealousy.

Physical encouragement from his family allowed him to plop from his cell after wriggling his hardest to achieve his goal. The noise in the room hardly changed; the pokémon who cheered in congratulations only amplified their efforts to commend him, and he looked around, probably overjoyed to hear of such encouragement. He turned back to his parents, who were up against the cell bars.

“Liberate us,” the older brother, as Typhen guessed, requested kindly, haste in his voice.

“You are capable of much,” the dad informed, the mother spurting similar compliments.

With a glance at the cell’s front, however, he couldn’t seem to deduce where the lock was. The metal bars were confusing to look at; he wasn’t even sure what a lock was, as he had never seen one before and practically had no knowledge of what one might look like. “I...my eyes do not find it,” he told them urgently, his tone rushed as he began to twitch with restlessness. He glanced about the room, possibly deterred by the snatches of enraged accusations that were audible amongst the claps of commendation.

“Let your mind find it,” his brother suggested, and although the small seviper did not seem to fully understand the comment, he focused himself and continued to look until he came across a shaped hole in a square part of the metal.

“I...I think this is it.”

“Approval, son, approval,” the father chanted rhythmically, obviously happy with the outcome of his son’s efforts.

“Find needles close to your breast and give them passage through your throat,” the child’s mother instructed, and the small snake pokémon nodded warily, surveying the cavernous area once more before curling his neck and expelling small spines of venomous energy. The barrage hit the keyhole but looked to do nothing. Repetition of the action did not help at all, and soon the child was becoming distressed and begged to return to the cell, in the safety of his parents’ scaly tails.

“Try again,” his brother suggested, his tone warm and understanding. His urgency to escape such a dwelling did not surpass his need to be pleasant to his brother, which made Typhen give an approving smile. “This time, guide your tail as you would your mind to accomplish a difficult task.”

Nodding, the young poison type stretched up, unable to reach the lock. He nearly began to panic, but was once again reassured by his family to slither up one of the poles and keep himself wrapped while his tail worked as a sort of key.

After that failed, the family was seemingly out of ideas, and the hooting, growling and overall rowdiness of the crowd proved itself to be a distraction. The child tried but could not focus himself.

“...Return to us, my son,” the father eventually requested softly, the sadness and disappointment in his tone clearly not one directed at his child, but the fact that the task had revealed itself to be impossible.

Upon seeing this, the child was still, his body frozen in the confusion of decision. His mind turned with the many options he had a choice between.

“I want to free you.”

“There is no dishonour in giving up,” his father responded, his eyes downcast. There was silence between the seviper family as the rest of the room continued to carry on, and the young child looked to remain determined. Typhen watched on as the pokémon's expression hardened.

“I said I want to free you,” the young poison type repeated, and to that, the father looked up again, a frown painting itself on his face. His long tongue flicked from his mouth and then disappeared again.

“There is no point if failure is the only thing within grasp,” he explained, but to it, the little pokémon shook his head.

“It’s not the sole thing within grasp,” he retorted, his resolve suddenly stronger as he looked to inflate his chest a little. “I shall free you of metal confines.”

Trying again, the seviper slithered up the iron bars and wedged his tail into the lock. He jiggled it around, hoping to hear some kind of indication that the lock would pop open. When nothing happened after a minute, he only stopped to take a breath before trying again.

Typhen sat back, turning from the child’s attempts. The dodrio was standing some metres away, simply staring. The raticate was crouching, his head angled up to see the poison type’s attempt at freedom. With a solemn face and stiff thoughts, Typhen kept his gaze drilled into the ground. “I don’t believe there is reason behind his actions.”

He had been talking to nobody in particular, but the dodrio happened to hear regardless, and each head turned their attention to him, still partly on the seviper. “What makes you say that?” the rational one asked, eying him with calm curiosity.

The luxio’s eyes did not rise. “The lock will give and the seviper family will be freed. Yet what course can they take?” He took the chance to look up, capturing the middle head in his gaze. “To what place does family expect to escape?”

“The wilderness,” the angry head grumbled, and Typhen shifted his gaze.

“Where do you propose the wilderness begins? Out that door?” He gestured to one of the doors along the right wall, far from where they were. “Or its opposite? I do not believe that we would be encaged by the humans, only to be given freedom at the mere stretch of a neck.” He placed his hardened eyes on the seviper family. “Their resolve is misplaced.” He was silent a moment before he added, “They will not be able to free us.”

The dodrio heads considered this, slowly finding his points to stand out in reasonability. “Why would they not aim to free the rest of us?” asked the middle head.

“Are you not with eyes?” the aggressive one snapped. The middle one furrowed his brow. “Observe. This is how much time unlocking a single cage consumes, and he does not reign victorious yet. How many of us, those that he may free, have the appropriate instruments to unlock a cage? That child stands the only one capable of completing the task.” He glared at the seviper outside the cage beside them, then said, “Do you find it realistic that this seviper would visit every cage and liberate their inhabitants?”

The middle one sighed, not meeting his other heads’ eyes. “Point taken.”

“Father,” the small seviper began, capturing the two’s attention. “The lock is...” His face was lit with possibility as he continued to work, and Typhen stared in amazement, wondering if the small poison type would actually succeed in what seemed surely impossible. If he was able to do something so seemingly impossible, then...perhaps that could mean something for the rest of the caged pokémon.

“Son?” questioned the father, clearly anxious to feel the effects of victory between his jaws.

“My son!” cheered the child’s mother, and his older brother also contributed to verbal support, which put a smile on the small creature’s face as he worked, still not quite able to find the right spot and twist in the correct way.

For a reason he at first could not fathom, Typhen’s eyes shot straight to the door in the corner of the room along the right-hand wall. It was suddenly all he could focus on as he wondered why he had been drawn to that point. His tail tingled. He felt a sensation in his belly that was far from comfortable, but not at all painful. “No...”

Suddenly the door widened and a human draped in armour entered the room, followed by many more wearing the same clothing. A human with different attire was in their wake, and Typhen knew, somehow, that it was important.

“Son!” barked the father of the small seviper upon sighting their company, and the child shot his head over his shoulder, obviously aware of the sudden danger. He began to work harder and the father frowned with surprise, clearly disturbed. “Son, cease that at once! Return to me!”

“Father,” the small seviper uttered quietly, unwilling to commit to defying his father properly.

The humans were quick to see the poison type snaking up the bars of the cage, and a collection of them sped toward him, spears raised and intentions set. The crowd began to hoot and howl with different messages; by the sound of it, some of them wanted the child to be killed for attempting something they couldn’t, and some urged him to flee. Typhen approached the bars that connected his cell with the seviper’s.

The humans shouted in their language, the one wearing lighter clothes to the rest staring intently at the poison type. Its eyes were unmoving as the soldiers approached quicker, the seviper only trying to work faster to undo the lock. His family called words of warning to him, but he disregarded them until his father shot his tail end through the bar, which only just fit before the thickness of his body was stopped by the small gap in the bars, and wrapped around the child. The small one’s eyes widened with horror, and Typhen watched as he screeched and wrenched himself away, the look in his eyes one that was a response to betrayal. Personally he didn’t understand it and wondered what in the world that seviper had to prove.

“Release me,” the child ordered, and the father, frantic with panic and fuming at his son’s sudden stubbornness, only tried to slide his son down the bars. “Stop!” called the child again, but the father was not intent on listening, and soon his son was too far down the bars to reach the lock anymore, his tail slipping out. His struggles continued as the humans neared, and soon the luxio knew it would be too late.

“Run!” he barked; none of the humans turned their attention to him, however, as the rest of the underground room was in an uproar caused by every other pokémon. The ‘important’ human didn’t seem fazed by it, however, and merely watched on.

Neither of the seviper listened to him until the father pulled him in; however, the child’s jaws locked around the bar, and the father’s tail slipped off from the jerk. He sprung back out through the gap in the bars and crumpled onto the floor outside the cage. He shook his head and, not noticing the humans, slithered determinedly up the bars again. It was at that moment when the humans were upon him, grabbing at his slinky body, to which he yelped and gasped, jamming his long fangs into a hand. The human screeched in pain, recoiling immediately as the two holes invited blood to drip from the wounds. It clenched its teeth and shot a glare at the climbing snake pokémon, its companion using its spear to wrap the seviper around it before the human yanked, tearing the seviper’s tail from the lock’s hole.

Typhen watched in angst as the child was taken from the bars and thrown onto the ground, his head slamming against the compact earth. He wasn’t deterred and got immediately up, slithering away as fast as he could, his aim the open door that the humans had left open. The soldiers gripped their weapons, but the “important” human raised a stiff hand, narrowing its eyes at its supposed protectors. They seemed confused by its silent orders but stood down, still in their defensive stances but not taking any further action.

As the seviper approached the door, he glanced warily to his left as he passed the humans, wondering why they had let him go, but thankful that they did nonetheless. Even if he could escape knowing that his family was still imprisoned, he knew that they weren’t in totally ruthless hands, giving him hope.
Suddenly, from the conjoining room stepped a human in rough hide. Its foot appeared inside the room, followed by the extent of its masculine form. The seviper slowed to a stop, glancing up at the human with eyes beginning to waver in confusion and fear. The humans was larger than the rest, and its body looked as solid as a machamp’s. The human glared down at the seviper, its face unchanging.

The room nearly fell silent as all in it watched the scene take place, wondering what exactly the human would do. Some sweated with the anticipation, hoping that the snake pokémon would get to flee. Typhen was among those pokémon, and the raticate and dodrio with whom he shared his cell appeared beside the front bars as well, intrigued by the scene before them. Nobody spoke as the human glowered with fearless eyes. Typhen could tell that it was different from the others, even from the “important” one, although it didn’t seem as high in rank as that one. No matter its rank, it looked positively dangerous, and he thought for sure that it wouldn’t allow the seviper to slide away without consequence.

All at once the seviper moved, slithering around the human’s leg as it watched him go, quickly approaching the door. The ecstasy in the seviper’s mind flared; he was so close to freedom, and as he wriggled along his last metre until freedom, his happiness peaked. He didn’t care what lay beyond this point; there was hope for his family and for him. If he could escape, then the remainder of the trapped pokémon would also have a hope of survival. He was more than happy to be an example of persistence and determination; to all the other pokémon, he knew he was someone they could idolise and place their faith for the future in. He would never be happier than in that moment.

The sickening sound of a slice rang out as the seviper’s smile vanished. His blood ran cold as he felt something intrude his body, a shiver erupting from his neck and scaling the rest of his body. His eyes grew with fear, isolation and horror as a wild pain exploded in his back, beginning to bleed throughout the rest of his body as he shouted in an abrupt outburst of agony.

The human lifted its sword, the squirming form of the seviper on the end seemingly not anything of a bother to it. Despite the frantic writhing, the calls of pure anguish and the blood rapidly running the length of the sword before striking the floor, the human was still unchanged. As it held the sword in one hand, it surveyed the rest of the room, stilled as the dead silence hung in the air with a hundred beings to confirm its meaning.

The screeching seviper became the sole sound in the entire room, and the important looking human angled his gaze down and grew, to Typhen’s absolute disgust, a small smile. His face darkened with the thought of somebody finding the situation amusing, and kept his jaws pressed together.

The family in the cell beside him suddenly erupted with shrieks and screams, the mother droning heavily in horror of her son’s predicament. Tears were quick to wet her face and stream down her yellow jawbone. The brother was in much the same position as the father, hissing wildly and hardly bothering to fight back any tears which formed in his eyes.

“Release my son, you monsters!” yelled the father, but evidently the humans couldn’t understand his speech. A few of the ones in armour approached the cage, jabbing their spears at the bars to drive the family back. The mother and brother recoiled, but the father remained, enduring a number of stabs and crying out, reluctant to cease his protest in his son’s name. The child watched the entire time, blood pulsing from his wound as he was held upside-down jammed on the sword, tears flowing down his face as he watched in horror.

“STOP IT, FATHER!” he screamed, but the reciprocate wasn’t swayed. His form remained, a grimace of regret and sadness painting his face. He remained, holding his son’s terrified eyes as the humans drove another spear into his front, and Typhen flinched as he realised that they had struck his heart.

The father’s eyes grew wide before his body began to slowly deflate, his eyes on his son until he slumped to the floor. The corpse’s gaze redirected to an aimless place on the ground. With corresponding screams, the brother and mother powered forward, ducking their heads while wishing to be of some kind of aid. Nothing in the creature’s body showed a single sign of life, and they realised that the only thing still moving was the increasing puddle underneath him. The utter agony embodying the father’s family was enough to shake the entire room, every single eye upon them.

The important human’s gaze was removed somewhat solemnly from the family, and rested upon the child with a face contorted with disappointment, annoyance and impatience. Binding the three was a string of disbelief, which it used to shake its head. The human glanced around the room and began to make an announcement—one that meant nothing to the pokémon who were not accustomed to human speech.

Typhen glared at him, his chest inflating rapidly and deflating at the same pace, his claws puncturing the floor as his tail and ears stood erect. His anger welled inside him, and it was only then that he thought to glance toward his mate. The luxio had her eyes firmly positioned on the seviper family, her face taken by sorrow and sympathy. Typhen’s resolve weakened a little, his anger being replaced with some of the feeling he absorbed from her just by placing eyes on her form.

He found himself tearing his gaze from her at the dodrio’s right head’s words. The flying and normal type stared ahead with a somewhat unreadable expression and Typhen followed his gaze, his mixed feelings making his heart thump in his chest. “He says that…that this is the outcome of reckless behaviour. If we desire life live, we must live…under his rule.” The words were spoken with disgust, and the other heads reflected his look before the middle one looked to the electric type beside him.

“The humans seek slaves,” he uttered with contempt. Typhen only stared at him before shifting his gaze. He hadn’t any idea what being a slave entailed.

“He continues, “Your home is now the earth that binds this colosseum. See to it that you grow accustomed to new ways of life, for it will be…all you will ever know from this moment.”” The right head’s face was shaking with fear and anger, his counterparts doing the same as they too registered the words spilling from the monster’s jaws.

Typhen listened as the dodrio head translated the human’s words, picking up on the fact that they were to be tested in fight against each other. The victors would be presented with a place in the colosseum’s underground chambers, while the losers would perish, as it was a fight to the death. The idea was absolutely sickening, and Typhen couldn’t imagine doing anything of the like. However, he knew that he probably had no choice. He was sure he would rather die than become a slave, but his decision was heavily tempered by his mate. He assumed she was the same way, but he refused to die while she still drew breath, for she may have needed protection that only he could provide.

The important human turned to the one holding the sword and muttered a few things. Typhen and the seviper’s remaining family, weeping over their lost father and mate, looked up in horror as the human commanded attention with a wide movement. Without hesitation, it drove the sword through the seviper’s body and into the ground, then placed a boot on his body before yanking the sword out. The shrill cry from the poison type’s maw was enough to shake Typhen’s bones, and he watched with a vile feeling as the important one again gave voice to his thoughts. The dodrio translated, explaining that the human wished for the child to be an example to those who wished to escape.

The air was wet with tears of weeping family members and cold from the shock of the events. The wailing continued for only a short while longer, for the sword came down over the seviper’s neck and his mother exploded with screams, her jaw as wide as it could get and her eyes ready to pour rivers of tears. They bore nothing but agony.

Typhen had seen a considerable amount in his lifetime, but never anything as hasty and cruel as what his eyes perceived now. His entire being was pooling with the inability to understand, his mind swirling with thoughts that he never would have otherwise considered. He felt lost, alone and cornered somewhere he couldn’t escape. He knew that the feeling of dread was sure to remain and haunt him until his very last day, unless he managed to break free and reintroduce himself and Mana to the wilderness one day. Until then, he knew he would have to endure anything thrown his way.

He watched as the human uttered his final words and left, the soldiers in his wake. Every one of them completely ignored the corpse as they passed, and disappeared through the door without a second whisper. Only the sword-wielding human remained, its eyes dark as it scanned the room once more. If Typhen was the least bit intimidated by any one of those humans, it would be the one he stared at now. The human’s eyes passed over him for a moment, sending a cold chill through his body, before slipping its sword into a loose skin and walked with purpose out the door.

The mother wept after having collapsed, her mate’s blood soaking her underside as she lay, completely drained of anything but utter sorrow. Her tears were never-ending and her weeping was soft; the brother was coiled in the back corner of the cage, his empty glare digging into the wall. Typhen turned back, resting his eyes again on the child. The head was completely severed from the body and had rolled a few paces down towards them. Its face was, he realised with a chill, glaring directly at him, its eyes cold and lifeless. The luxio swallowed, unsure what to think.

He knew one thing: he had been thrown into a world of fear, hatred and death. The floor of his cage was heavily stained with blood and sorrow, dooming every pokémon who was unfortunate enough to pass through and remain alive. The feeling was none like he had ever experienced before, but knew with a large dose of regret that he would only continue to feel this way for a long time to come.

He had been condemned.

[Dragon Master Mike]

The Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion? Good game, but back to topic

This is.... This is amazing! Usually i am discouraged from reading long stories but the description sounded interesting and you have given me so much input on my art so i decided to read it, and i am happy i did! So much detail, if i had written this, it would have been 5 paragraphs for the entire thing. Looking foward to what comes next!

[Suicune's Fire]

Yes, definitely! 8D

Aw, thank you so much! XD Hahah, sometimes I am too. Hooray! 8D LOL 5 paragraphs. Well I'm so happy you read it and like it! :D I'll try to pump out another chapter soon. XD


~SF.