The first day of the grand gladiator tournament drew to its bloody close beneath the waning light of the sun. The air inside the colossal arena was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and trampled sand. The cheers that had roared like thunder throughout the day had quieted now into a subdued murmur, tinged with exhaustion and a strange, lingering awe.
The fourth and final group of the day had just concluded their match, and ten battered survivors stood — or staggered — as the victors. Their armor was dented, their skin painted in crimson, their faces bearing the vacant, shell-shocked expressions of those who had seen too much death in too short a time.
