Chapter 4: Chapter 1 - All I have to do is die (3)
The ground crunched under their feet as they made their way down the hallway. The warden stopped the procession four more times to collect volunteers. Only two more people joined them, making seven in total.
Peering into various dungeons, Roran found that they were in the same condition as his people, all of them dirty and starving. He had heard that misery loves company, but seeing this many people kept prisoner just made him feel hopeless. Even if they were all suffering together, they were still suffering.
The warden led them towards the end of a hallway that was secured by a massive gate. Two wardens stood guard and moved to unbolt and unlock the gate as the line of sacrifices approached. It took both wardens to heave the massive gate open, revealing a large staircase heading upwards.
Despite the oppressive atmosphere, and impending doom, Roran felt a little giddy. This was the first time he'd been allowed outside the dungeon since their arrival over a month ago. He would soon be allowed out of the catacombs and into the arena proper. Roran would actually be able to see the sky and breathe fresh air, if only for a moment.
They ascended the stairs together, a fresh breeze blowing down from above. The air was cool and sweet, a sharp contrast to the dank musk of the dungeons below. The warden led them to a landing and into a series of hallways.
"Stay close, don't get separated," said the warden. "If you don't make it into the arena your people won't get any favors."
Walking single file, they made their way through a series of twists and turns. The air was even fresher up here and Roran could hear the sounds of people above them. They were almost at the surface.
"In here, don't dawdle." The warden ushered them into a large stone room. The walls were lined with racks of weapons. All of them were worn and weathered, cracked from years of use with no maintenance. "You have half an hour to gear up and prepare yourselves. A few more wardens will come in to assist. Good luck."
With that, the warden left. Roran, and the others, started milling about the room, examining the available armaments. Roran didn't have any real combat training. A childhood friend of his had once stolen their father's sword and the two had played with it for a little bit, before getting caught and scolded.
Finding an old blade, Roran picked it up and hefted it. It was heavier than he remembered. The sword was rusty, chipped, and cracked. Digging through the pile of gear, he managed to find a small shield that would fit on his off hand. Roran didn't bother looking for anything better or nicer, it would have just been wasted on him.
"Now here's a rag tag soldier if I ever saw one."
Roran turned and found himself face to face with another warden. This one seemed different from the others. He was lean and tan, with bright eyes and a crooked smile.
"You're not going to get very far with that gear," said the warden.
Roran shrugged. "It's not like I need anything good, all I have to do is die."
The warden frowned. "That's a sour attitude. What's your name, boy?"
"Roran."
"Well Roran, I'm Chase, and I think you're going about this all wrong."
Roran cocked his head. "I am?"
"You are indeed, if all you have to do is die, then the sky's the limit, right? If death is success, then survival is a grand victory. Winning points could even be seen as a flawless victory."
Roran looked down at himself. "I'm sorry mist-"
"Chase, call me chase."
"I'm sorry Chase, I don't think I have what it takes to survive. I can barely even hold this sword."
"That's because you have the wrong sword. Here, give me that." Chase took the sword from Roran. "This is a longsword, you want something smaller, a little easier to wield and run around with. Something like...this!"
Chase dug through a pile of gear and produced a rusty short sword. It wasn't much to look at but it was in better shape than the longsword. When he handed it to Roran, Roran gave it a couple tentative test swings. It was much easier to handle and felt better in his hand.
"Now," said Chase, "you use that and your little buckler there to keep the worst of the enemies at bay. You don't need to kill anyone, all you have to do is avoid getting stabbed. Do you like to run, kid? You look like the type of person that does a lot of running."
"I have," said Roran. He'd been running from one thing or another most of his life.
"Good, all you have to do is run away from people trying to kill and, if they get too close, use your sword and shield to keep them from stabbing you. Simple right?"
"I guess so?" Roran didn't actually think it would be that simple.
"Hey, I'll tell you what." Chase dug into his pocket and pulled out an old, worn coin. "This is my good luck charm. I found this in a freshwater spring while crossing the mountains on my way here. If I hadn't found that spring, I would have died from thirst before I even made it halfway across the mountain range. You hang onto this for me and give it back when you leave the arena."
Before Roran could answer, Chase shoved the coin into his hands.
"Come on," said Chase, "no time to dawdle, the others are almost ready."
Around the room, the other sacrifices were also being buckled into armor and given gear by a handful of wardens. Once geared up, they were led to another door and made to stand in a line.
Chase steered Roran to the back of the line and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're going to do fine kid, just do your best and remember, all you have to do is live."
Chase disappeared before Roran could ask him any more questions. Soon, all seven of them were in a line and a warden was leading them out of the room again. They made their way down a couple more hallways to a large staircase. The air was cleanest here. At the top of the stairs was open sky and fresh air. At the top of the stairs was the arena.
Chase's words began tumbling through Roran's head, over and over again.
All I have to do is live, all I have to do is live, all I have to do is live.
The doors opened and sunlight poured in, illuminating the stairwell. The wardens prodded them and the sacrifices started climbing the staircase. Roran squeezed the coin in his fist.
"All I have to do is live."
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