Sweat, Blood, and the Arena (Athene & Eyesoffire)

304 BC

It had taken twenty-four long years. But finally, the Samnite Wars had come to an end. With the treaty renewed, it seemed like, at least for the time being, all was well. All was as it should be. Yet, no one was foolish enough to forget the unfortunate truth. This peace simply wouldn't last forever, no matter how badly anyone would pray to the gods.

Still, tempus fugit, and thus waited for no one.

And so, people continued with their customs, their way of life. The slaves continued serving their dominuses and dominas, said rulers kept their houses and reputations as high as possible, and the Emperor watched over all of the Roman people.

Whether it was done in an effective way or not would depend on one's point of view.

Our story begins not with the Emperor, but a caravan ...

---

"Aysu! Come now, hurry up! The new slaves should be arriving soon enough!"

A tall man, likely in his late thirties or even early forties, paced while waiting for the person in question. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, not appreciating how long his own slave was taking to comply with what should have been a simple request. "Aysu! I'm not repeating myself again! Get over here,now, or --- "

A rushed set of footfalls echoed throughout the halls and soon, a woman no more than five inches over five feet ran in. Her head lowered, gaze immediately moving to the stone floors. "I'm sorry, Master Iulius. Please forgive me."

" ... Done. Now, come."

Slowly, the two exited the villa and began walking through the streets of Rome. The walk would be mostly silent. About half-way towards their destination - the town square - Aysu hesitantly started muttering under her breath.

"Hmm?" Iulius inquired, "Speak up if you have something to say. Otherwise, be silent."

"My apologies but I was wondering ... do you not have enough slaves?"

"True. Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you. However, we are not looking for only a slave. We are seeking a gladiator, one who will fight for me and my name. My sake. My reputation even. And that is why I wanted you to join me. You, my dear, have always had a good judge of character. I feel certain you will be able to help me determine whom would be the best gladiator to purchase."

Aysu fought off the urge to frown, merely nodding instead. She knew her Master was right. She just wished he wasn't. Moreover, the fact she was aiding in someone becoming little more than what she was - a slave - didn't sit well with Aysu. When her home of Macedonia had been raided, she had been one of the few spared and purchased.

Her situation was a simultaneous blessing and curse.

But because it had some good at all, she tried to embrace and accept any and all blessings given to her rather than tossing them away like an ungrateful child would.

"I understand," she finally replied, "Thank you for the praise."

Iulius offered little more than a "Hmph" in response, the two finally arrived, standing in front of a line of mostly men, though a few women as well. All seemed ... barbaric. Wild. Ready to attack the first chance they got. Even the chains keeping their wrists and ankles secured seemed so ... frail.

Likely because each body was accompanied with some amount of muscle, no matter how small or much.

Slowly, Aysu began walking past each individual, studying them quietly. Carefully. All while knowing that any of them trying to attack would result in the slavers holding them back. Otherwise, she would no doubt look and act much more hesitant on obeying her master's orders.

It was a hot day, hotter than it normally would have been in spring. Not that it mattered, not to Marcus anyway. He wore little enough as it were, not by his own choice. Every day since last week had been a new discovery in what it meant to be a slave, to be beneath the lowest of the low. Mostly, since his arrest, it had been just waiting; thinking, wondering and hoping. Marcus hated waiting. None of the others who had accompanied him from their dingy, dark cells to the dusty and busy streets, spoke Latin. So, Marcus wasn't even allowed human contact on more than the most basic of levels. He knew this was coming, he hadn't tried to run that night.

He had to squint when they were rushed out of their covered, horse-drawn, cart and into the bright light of early afternoon. Made to stand on a wooden elevation and stripped down to nothing more than a loincloth, Marcus stood, side by side with 6 other slaves. His hands were shackled, the chains bound to the wooden floor upon which they stood. He looked down and saw droplets of dried blood from days past. With a frown, Marcus looked up in time to see what seemed to be a woman approaching the group. She did not look Roman, more akin to the Greeks. Not that it mattered. He was to be sold to a new master. He did not even have a previous one. He was owned by the state, and so he'd come cheap.

The one bit of solace to Marcus was that he would be sold quickly. He was well fed and spoke the language; the privileges of his previous life as a full citizen of Rome. He couldn't help but hope that his new master would show some hint of pity towards him when brought to their villa.
The hope felt bitter in his mouth. He suddenly didn't want pity. He had received enough pitiful looks from his own friends when he was dragged out of his home in chains.

The woman approached. She was pretty. Her figure didn't show signs of any physical abuse, at least, not that he could see. Maybe it wasn't such a bad home to go to. If he was bought, of course.
Though what were the chances that he'd make for a good house slave? That was usually a woman's role. No dominus wanted to be fed by a man, but some beautiful exotic woman was another matter.
Still, Marcus kept his eyes on the woman. He broke contact for a moment, looking at his other slaves, they all had their heads down. Perhaps it was the Roman blood in him, but if he was going to be bought he wanted to look upon the faces of his soon-to-be masters.

As Aysu got a much closer view of the men, she suddenly wondered if her original thoughts had been wrong. At least to an extent. Some of these potential slaves looked less lethal and more ... broken. Tamed. As if their very souls had all but faded away, stolen by Pluto himself. Her head lightly moved from side to side. That wouldn't do, even less so knowing why they had come out here. If Iulius really wanted a personal gladiator, they would need to at least act more akin to one.

Or at the very least, wear a different expression.

... Unfortunately, she couldn't overly blame them. Although she probably appeared to be higher than any of them, Aysu was far from that. Rank wise, she was the same as these males. Some owners would argue even lower, simply because of her gender.

As she stood in front of Marcus, her head tilted curiously.

He was doing something none of the others were even attempting to do, and that was looking at her. As if they were meeting in a much more pleasant and casual manner. "Master Iulius!" she called, waving her hand.

"Oh? This one, huh?" Iulius mused, quickly noticing the very same thing Aysu had. That was good. If he could look at him and Aysu, it meant his fire, his desires, his passion -- they still remained. He would need his future gladiator to possess all of those traits and so many more.

"My personal slave here seems to believe you would be a good choice. Tell me, boy, your name, age, and if she is right. Would you be willing to serve me as my personal fighter, gladiator, and bodyguard?"

This wasn't just a test to determine what to do next, but also to see if part of his training would need to include linguistics. Aysu had certainly needed a good amount of that. Iulius could be a patient man, but that was a trait he was best with showing when people were honest and sincere with him. This man's reactions and responses would also determine that thought; whether discipline would be something to consider using or not.

Aysu had been whipped before. It just wasn't obvious, concealed by the thin cloth wrapped around her slightly dark flesh.

Of course, these were all things Marcus would either learn in time, or never know of. It'd all vary on his response to Iulius, and then what the possible-future Master decided to do afterwards.

Aysu spoke latin well, that much was clear. Marcus frowned a little as the man approached, a man named Iulius. Marcus observed him in silence, took in the way Iulius observed his own self. He locked eyes with Iulius for a brief moment before he remembered his station. He could not to do that anymore, and Marcus would do almost anything to avoid being treated like dirt. Sometimes it was best to play your social rank. Better to be strong and smart, rather than just the former.

Marcus took a moment to catch a glimpse at what the other slaves were doing. They had noticed that two people were looking over Marcus, some of them looked at him with jealousy; he couldn't blame them, their lot in life had been a dark cell with rats chewing on their toes. Others looked at him with pity. That was a strange thing to notice, they pitied him. Outwardly they didn't show their rebellious side, but slaves could tell through glances; the emotions that their eyes hide.

"Marcus Arrius, 28." He said, speaking latin perfectly. Iulius' final question was difficult for him to answer. Doing so would be openly admitting that he was a slave; something that Marcus had been mentally avoiding for some time. It was one thing to act the part of slave, but another to confirm that you were one by stating it. Marcus sighed for a moment, a small sigh, soft. This was his new lot now, he had done well not to get on the biting end of the whip. He was a slave. It was time to accept that fact. Pure stubbornness alone would not change that.

"I... I will fight for you." Marcus' reply was a little stuttered. It pained him to say that, but he did further confirm his answer with a nod.

I'm so sorry ...

Aysu latched onto her lower lip, feeling ... horrible. And that was but the tamest of words to use. If she had to be brutally honest, it was closer to disgusted with herself. But really, in the end, what more could she have done?

It wouldn't be as if disobeying her own Master would have een a smart move. Far from it, if anything.

Her eyes closed as she took a soft, deep breath.

... Hope for this man hasn't truly faded away.

Which, if one took a moment to think about it, was true. She could make his new life easier. Aysu didn't need to be blessed with the gift of prophecy to figure Iulius would end up buying Marcus.

He was perfect in every way. The fact he did indeed go down the smart but still clearly strong path had secured his freedom.

If one could call it that.

Iulius nodded, heeding every answer given to him. Although he definitely noticed Marcus hesitate, Iulius allowed it to slide, simply because he gave a correct answer. Still, Iulius noted it all the same, and would remember it.

He may not need to discipline Marcus; however, it was definitely a very real possibility. Hopefully, Marcus would continue using his common sense and stay on his better side.

Only time would reveal what would end up happening.

"Very well. Guards! Release this man!"

Two armored figures walked, one going to either side of Marcus. Soon, the chains that had been keeping him secured in place fell, clanking to the wooden platform.

Making a 'come here' motion with his right index and middle fingers, he turned and began walking away.

"We will get you to my villa. Aysu will help you get washed up. And then, before dinner, we will pay a visit to the Colosseum."

Aysu's cheeks quickly flushed. "I ... huh?"

"You heard me, did you not? Besides, you need to wash up as well."

Aysu swallowed, slowly nodding. "I understand. Sorry. That just ... I didn't quite expect to hear that, Master."

"Forgiven, but remember. I do not have many others who could do that task."

The saddest part is he was correct though, in Aysu's mind, it was more accurate to say he didn't have many reliable slaves who could do something as simple as help get a newly purchased servant washed up.

... It was thus a blessing and a curse for her. It meant he was placing a lot of faith and had a lot of respect for her. But at the same time, he would expect a lot from Aysu because of those feelings. And that ... well ... could be dangerous.

Please keep watching over me, Juno, she inwardly prayed. Despite not having hailed from Rome herself, she did pick up quickly on certain customs. Most came in the forms of their religion. Given her life as a slave hadn't been the worst, Aysu liked to believe at least one of the gods or goddesses had been pitying her. Or something to that effect.

The walk wouldn't be long, and within the span of about six minutes, the trio would arrive in front of Iulius and Aysu's villa.

Doubt flooded his mind, should he have stayed stubborn and revolted in a small way?
No. No these things were useless to speculate on, he had made his choice, and he knew his choice meant better food and living conditions, even if it meant that he would be risking his life for a stranger. He pushed the thoughts aside, it was a new future, not a bright one, but new all the same, and that meant something to him.

Marcus could not help but wonder why Iulius said they would visit the Colosseum before dinner. He frowned as they walked. His mind was torn from this thought as he noticed three Roman soldiers walking parallel to Marcus, Aysu and Iulius. They were clearly making side-long glances at him. Their thoughts were clear; they suspected that Marcus might make move for freedom. It didn't matter. Marcus was not looking to prod Roman law any further. At least not at this moment. He hated that he had been cowed.

Minutes passed and Marcus rose his head to see a large, red-stoned villa before him. Lush plants could be seen situated outside, a few dozen feet from the front gate itself. The villa had an outer wall with carvings of the great deeds of Iulius' family. Marcus had seen this all before; the homes of the rich and influential. Several hunting dogs were being taken out the side of the villa, no doubt already working on food for tonight. Marcus' eyes landed on a few peacocks strutting about among the plants; inquisitive as to what they might contain.

His eyes then rested on Aysu, the back of her. She was to wash him. It did seem like Marcus was already a valued member here, to be personally washed by a slave who accompanied the dominus. Maybe he was confused, or maybe Iulius ran things differently. Regardless of the facts, Marcus had to be cautious. He needed to stay smart so he could stay alive. Additionally, he was eager to ask Aysu some questions.