60. The Arena (4)

A slave of the arena.

That was what summed up that wretched existence: victory and defeat. Though dig to the truer heart of it and it turned starker still, a matter of death and survival. To go on living today, you had to kill off someone else’s yesterday; only by trampling today’s opponent could you finally draw breath tomorrow. It was a fate of standing on sand soaked through with someone’s fresh blood, waiting to see who the next sacrifice would be.

That was the life of a slave thrown into the arena.

But I was no slave. I knew...