On Black Wings I Rise, On Black Wings I Fall

Published by Ryan Christopher Adams on 7/4/2012

Stepping into the blinding surge of illumination that filled the outside world, I found my place in the Arena. The encampment itself was nothing less than dense jungle stretching unto lengths that were twisted and contorted. I had entered into a demented labyrinth, created by everything dark that lay within nature’s conscious. Towering trees broke through holes of a wooden dome placed over the Arena. I fired a series of icicles to test the integrity of the dome, though they shattered before impact. Magically enhanced, as another safety precaution placed for the combatants’ sake. Hundreds upon hundreds of citizens, eagerly awaiting the first cry of pain to be uttered and the first drop of blood to be spilled, sat outside the dome in towering viewing areas, as one would not want to miss a second of this ravenous and barbaric tradition. Vines laid twisted and tangled among the towering arbors, some creating nets that would act as a useful trap, while others hung freely, keeping me puzzled on what to do with them.

The Arena was colossal; looking to my left and to my right, I couldn’t see any of the other convicts’ gates, nor did I see them with their weapons or other such items. Even if I could see their gates, however, they would’ve more than likely already dashed off into the forest. This gigantic battle was going to go on for days, and I had a feeling that nothing was going to interrupt it. Not mutant creatures; not magic by any of my overseers on the outside of the dome; it was just me, the jungle, and twenty three criminals out to push my shit in. The village seemed to thrive on the bloodshed of convicts and those doomed to die. My eyes were drawn to the damp, moss laden floors of the forest coliseum.

They were stained, still darkened with the week-old crimson tide of life juices spilled by the cellmate I had such an invigorating conversation with. I pitied the old fool for his arrogance and fragility. The last moments of his life – how he stood in this very spot, awaiting his death and what he thought would be release from his cruelty – became a mirage before my eyes, showing itself to me in vivid vision. It was utterly pathetic. I could still taste the blood on the rotting logs where his corpse was stabbed and burned to ashes. It twisted my stomach with disgust.

By now the other criminals have probably left their gates, searching the forest for an unsuspecting victim or a possible ally, with which they would part ways with the traditional slitting of the throat. Weapon in hand, I set of into the dense vegetation of what would soon be my newest nightmare, patiently awaiting my opponents in the glorious clashing of our steel.

The twigs from fallen branches that hung above my head snapped under my pawsteps as I trekked through the undergrowth of the contained jungle, ever wary of my surroundings should I be met with my first opponent, and hopefully, not my last. A thin layer of swirling mists hung just three inches off the forest floor, sifting in its intangible form with every step I took. My ears twitched with rustling of leaves and scattered skittering of other criminals and any other insects or rodents that made this coliseum their home. My muscles locked and loosened with each new occurrence, my sanity, from what I could tell, slipping into paranoia. I was incredibly unprepared; I had only moderate control over three elements, the fourth still out of my grasp of true control, and while my weapon felt right in my hands, its weight outmatched its lethality; the metal it had been constructed with was far stronger than tempered steel, used to prevent any weapon that could match its blade-snapping capabilities. The momentum from each of my strikes in this battle would leave ever-opened for counter-attacks and coup de graces as well.

An hour passed, and I had not happened upon any of my fellow fighters. The airwaves were still being plagued by the maddening cracks and crunches underneath the feet of the creatures roaming this place of whispering death as it creeps along your shadows. I had been keeping myself refreshed by extracting the water from the mist above my ankles, but while hunger was not weakening me at the moment, this and many other factors rang in my mind while my vigilance still slipped into insanity. As my skull darted back and forth between different sudden happenings, my eyes caught sight of a strange sight indeed.

A stone, caught between the vines looped around a tree. The piece of earth itself was more like a boulder, and it seemed as if, in my descent into madness, that a piece of the boulder was moving back into the scenery.

Wait; that wasn’t my ever-growing insanity talking.

With adrenaline already being primed for the pumping, I dove for the nearest dome-breaching tree I could move to, rolling behind while a stream of arrows followed my path, five following my footsteps while two more became imbedded in the tree I took cover behind. Incredibly lethal with that bow; an assassin most likely, caught while trying to topple the kingdom and kill its monarch. No one else would be that skilled, or be able to fire arrows at such velocity.

I turned my head to look back at my assailant, and he still remained in the tangled web of vines. Either he had become stuck in the vegetation, or that was his master vantage point. Another odd notion caught my sight; the arrows that had been sent in a line following my dive had begun to fade into the air, leaving their impact marks while they vanished from my sight. This guy was more dangerous that I had first perceived. I had to be extremely careful with my next movements or I’d be skewered like meat on a shishkabob.

I began to gather the scenery involving the two of us, forming it in my mind as I started to formulate an attack, counter, defense and, if need be, counter-defense. I stood behind a four-foot wide towering tree, ten feet away from another, five-feet in width. My assailant hung at least fifteen feet off the ground from a two-foot thick branch outstretched teen feet from the tree’s main body. A direct assault was too risky; too much time for him to riddle my body with arrows. If I simply stayed hidden behind my cover, surely another convict would happen upon me and attack me, forcing me out of cover while the archer killed us both. This was quickly becoming a game of ranged weaponry.

“Maybe you should think less” The unsheathing of two steel blades hit my ears. “And fight more!”

I ducked just in time to avoid the dagger-end of his bow, which had been somehow hidden in the wood where the weapon had been strung. Ingenious. Stepping behind him and readying my staff, I noticed that the bow was dual-bladed, and double edged with its dagger-ends. I was in for a real fight today. The feline plucked his bow from the wood, readying his weapon just the same. He wore a loose, hooded tunic, stretching down to his stomach area. His face had been scarred with lacerations and burns; punishments before his condemnation in this forest. His wings, he had been permitted to keep, though for what reason, I do not know, but they were ashen gray, like ash or soot. The fabrics were a mixture of deep black and a muddy brown, bits of speckled gray thrown into the fabrics. His camouflage, obviously, and his wings were colored much to his advantage.

Paired with his tunic was a skirt of chainmail, covered once more with the same color-combination of fabrics. He wasn’t a man of protection, and why should he be? He was a long-ranged fighter, and only went of close if need be. The feline swung the bow at me again; I blocked with the flat end of my blade while he loaded an arrow into his bow. I instantly took my right foot back as his arrow was released, avoiding an injury that would have cost me my life. I took hold of his bow, pulling it from my blade and lunging for his jugular.

He ducks and weaves from the blade’s impact point, elbowing me in the ribs and sending a swift punch to my solar plexus. I’m now short on wind and recovering from my last swing. I’m easily open for an attack. He lunges for me with the front dagger-end of his bow, but I stop him with a quick freezing spell on his paws. I ready myself for another attack while he easily breaks the ice covering his feet.

He chuckles, entertained by what meager attempts I make at attacking the well trained archer.

“You can fight, outsider. I will give you that.” He says as he loads another arrow into his bow, pulling back the string as he prepares to fire. “But I can fight better.”

I see a glint in the corner of his eyes and I dive in between his legs, a trail of arrows following my path as I leap behind him, his back turned as he follows my movements, kicking him into the dirt and twigs while I regain my stance and prepare to charge. And finish him. One foot in front of the other, I dashed for criminal, planting my sword into the ground as I vaulted myself into the air, water forming around my wrists as I prepared another icicle. My body swirled around to find the assassin drawing another arrow into the string of his bow. I had to strike. Now!

Pulling my arm back, and praying for that arrow to miss my frontal lobe, I sent the shard of ice spiraling towards it target, satisfied when I heard the dripping of his blood and the gurgling upon the cretin’s death as he choked on his own blood. His demise, however, came with something that is always to be expected of two objects coming into sudden contact. Something that is to be expected in any and all scenarios.

Collateral Damage.

As the feline’s body fell to a unmoving, with the exception of his still twitching leg, deceased heap, so did his arm, releasing the string of his bow and sending the arrow barreling towards me. I was in half-spin, five feet off the ground, and the steel tip of the projectile was closing in on my skull. My body inched another few degrees, and the arrow slid over my face, leaving a laceration across my left eye as the blood began to pour from my open wound. I landed back onto the forest floor, clutching my wound as I watched the arrow continue its flight until it shattered upon colliding with the shield covering the Arena. The smell of blood filled my nose, both of myself and my victim.

Walking over to my staff, still embedded blade-first into the ground, I plucked it from the topsoil, keeping pressure on my leaking skull laceration. I wasn’t one for being knowledgeable in the practices of medicine, but thanks to television and movie previews over the Internet, I knew of a treatment for open wounds, at least one that I hoped would work. Unfurling my wings, I leapt skyward, taking to the branch in which my first kill had concealed himself. I balanced myself precariously on the branch. It shook and rustled with my nervousness and untrained balance. I was either going to land on my face and lose more blood, or get one of the leaves hanging on the end of the branch and lose less blood than required. Taking my hand off my wound, I flipped my staff onto the top of the branch, grasping the hilt with my two paws as I hung from the branch, now using my weapon for support.

I swung my leg, sending a crescent of air to be rid of the vines that hung from the branch, sending them to the forest floor while I propelled myself forward with a steady stream of wind. The gales kept propelling me until I arrived at the clump of leaves at the end of the extension of wood. I only had one shot at getting what I needed, so I had to time this- wait a second! What am I thinking? With my plan in mind, I slid my weapon down to where the blade was in contact with the wood, and cleanly cut through the branch, sending the bushel of vegetation to the floor while I slowed my descent with my wings.

Going back to the base of the tree, I sent my blade into its bark, plucking a slab of wood from the base. I hope that I can replicate the treatment; otherwise I’m going to be losing more blood that I’d want to. Plucking a leaf from its collection, I sliced another piece of the branch from the original to be used as a rolling pin of sorts. I laid the leaf down on the wooden slab, slightly soaking it with water from the mist as I began to roll out the sticky green substance from the leaf. It was working just as I had hoped it would. Carefully, I spread the substance around the edges of the leaf, and delicately handling my prescription, I laid the medicinal plant over my eye, letting the substance seep into my wound.

What did it feel like? Well, for the most part, just let dry ice melt on your arms, and you’ll feel the pain that my natural remedy caused. Why didn’t I watch Remedy more closely when she was healing me?! Gritting my teeth and wrapping my tail around my leg in agony, I managed to hold my tongue long enough for my seething pain to be replaced with sweet relief. At least I had closed the wound, for now. Looking back once more at the insect-attracting corpse, I set off again, trekking deeper into the undergrowth of this madhouse.

Another three hours had passed. To avoid being noticed, for now at least, I had hidden myself at the precipice of one of the trees a few miles west from Death-Zone One. No other convicts had crossed my path yet, though from the cries and shrieks that I had heard about thirty minutes ago, some had succumbed to those greater than them, or had found the body of the archer I had killed. Looking back at the corpse that was probably infested with maggots by now, I wondered whether or not I should hold any emotional guilt for taking the life of my opponent. He was a criminal; he had taken the lives of countless others, and was doomed to die in this coliseum. I was merely the herald of his judgment. I held no remorse for the ruthless assault that spilt his life juices across the forest floor.

“And why should you?” asked a familiar voice as he perched himself on the opposite branch. “I mean, like you said, he was a criminal, so what remorse is there to be held?”

I chuckled lightly to myself. “It’s nice to see you too, Fracture. Aren’t you above sneaking peeks at my thoughts?” I replied.

“Is it such a crime to care for your chess piece?” Fracture nonchalantly replied.

My fist began to curl itself in anger while my eyes were closing to a sneer.

“I mean, I am your patron, after all. It’s my responsibility to make sure that my knight is safe.”

Great; more labels. My teeth began to involuntarily grind against each other as Fracture continued to spew speech from his vocal-hole. I’m no dribbling infant that needs to be watched over every living moment of my life! I’m a living creature, for-

A rustling in the bushes below disturbed my train of thought as my head snapped below. Out of the growth came another warrior, clad in knight’s armor and wielding a claymore larger than my entire body. Behold, the Juggernaut of the Arena. I could not see his aerial appendages, leaving me puzzled on whether they had been forcibly removed or if they were being contained in his armor, considering the metal too heavy for practical flight.

“Uh oh. Seems like Mr. Muscle has arrived. Ta-ta, Abyss.” With that, Fractured disappeared back into the wind with his intangible form being wisped into the layer of fog below. Unfortunately, his overly-glamorous exit also caused “Mr. Muscle” to catch attention of my resting place. That little bastard!

While the juggernaut began to charge for the tree, I swung around to the opposite branch, using my staff and claws to keep a grip on the wood and not plummet down to the forest floor. Sprinting to the end of the branch, I took a leap of faith, diving off the end just before the armored warrior swung his mighty axe, cleanly cutting through the arbor and sending it tumbling to the ground. Not a single “TIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMBEEEEERRR!” was exclaimed that day, and I gave not a single fuck.

Now plummeting into close proximity with the mother of all heavies, I unfurled my wings again, slowing my descent (though it felt like getting jabbed with a log) and allowing me to grasp onto another tree limb, flipping myself onto the branch and turning back to find my pursuer. His speed had suddenly skyrocketed, as he was now charging for my new standpoint! He was obviously not pleased with missing his target! Heh; guess he really is the Juggernaut.

Before I had time to react, the armored behemoth had already plowed through my perch, giving me no moment to prepare myself as I began to fall back to the forest floor. My head frantically whipped around for a free-hanging branch or vine or something to support me. There, twenty-feet to my left, I found it. Now if I can just get it right. Concentrating on my target, I let loose a powerful stream of water from my palm, letting jet across the air and come into contact with the limb. Letting the stream calm, I wrapped it around the branch and froze the clasp, tightening my grip the main source as I swung down to the ground, rolling to soften the impact.

Quickly rising back to my feet, I did a double-take to check the status of the warrior. In his enraged frontal assault, he had become dazed from the collision, giving me just enough time to atta-

“Hey, I think I heard something!” came from the unseen distance of the forest. Other responses soon followed, differentiating in tone, frequency, and sound level. My ears twitched with each new uttering that traveled across the sound waves, and my face fell with horror upon realization.

An entire caravan was coming my way.

My mind was racing with every strategy that I could think of that would make me somewhat of a match against a group of five, maybe six, seven at maximum, warriors that were already beginning to converge on my location. And to top it all off, the living suit of armor was beginning to come back to his senses! Sweat was already leaking from my skull and dampening my fur while my mind had begun its descent back into paranoia. I was outnumbered; I was outmatched. I-I-

“Run” my instincts said, whispering in the back corner of my mind while the rest continued in its breakdown.

Deciding that my gut-plan was what would work best, I tightly gripped my staff and began to sprint like an entire army was chasing after me. As a precaution, I laid out a new layer of soil over the area that I had disturbed and covering my tracks. Into the dense fog I went, constantly watching behind me until I could see no further into the forest, securing my escape from the oncoming onslaught of warrior. Once I couldn’t see any further, I turned my head back to whatever was in front of me before leaving my feet and let my wings begin to carry me.

The scenery around me became a blurry haze of green, tan, white and gray, a new series of obstacles flying at my face at a thousand miles an hour while I tried my best to maneuver myself out of their impact points. I swerved, banked, and rolled my body to avoid coming into contact with trees, vines, and a series of scattered stones that wanted nothing less than to break my body. I looked back once more, checking to see if anyone was following me or if they had caught wind of my movements. Turning back around, I nearly ran skull-first into a fifty-foot tall tree, pulling my body upward and looping back to avoid a fatal injury.

Pangs of hunger were beginning to plague my body. All my extraneous actions had left me weakened and fatigued. If I remained in this state for much longer, I would become to open to attack, and I would meet my demise. I perked my ears to see if I could hear the rustling of any nearby creatures that I could feast on. No such animals made their presence known; either that or they were very discrete with their movements. I dared not lift my nose to try and scent out any edible vegetation. This was an unknown world that I was, with no knowledge of its plant life; what is and isn’t edible. Better safe than sorry.

Reluctantly, I took another swig of water from the fog that hung at my ankles. Down my throat the liquid went, my stomach churning with disgust at the taste of nothing on my tongue. A human could survive for at least a month without food, as long as he had water. Hopefully, the same applied to the Baraq. If not, I am hosed. While my hunger issues had been solved, for the moment, my body was in dire need of a break from the constant movement in the arena. Taking a hold of my staff, I thrust the blade into the bark of another tree, setting my right paw upon it as I dug my left-hand claws into the bark. Using my free hand, I lunged for a higher placement, releasing my starting grip and using my magic to remove my weapon from its wooden casing.

The staff shot up like a firework , right into my paw as I used the remaining momentum to embed into the wood once more. Sheathing my claws, I gripped the hilt of the weapon with both paws as I swung myself back and forth on the wood. With enough power in my swing and using the remaining strength in my arms, I released my hold of the staff, flinging myself into the air and landed on another branch another ten feet up, with a triple back-roll to top it all off. And I stuck the landing! Eat your heart out, Shawn Johnson!

Using my magic again, the blade of my weapon slid from its arbolian sheath and levitated back into my paws, where I promptly stuck it in the tree another three feet above me. I’m fickle like that, aren’t I? Noticing that my leaf would probably need replacing, I began scanning my surroundings. I saw a bundle of vines hanging from another branch about five feet up and three to my right, with a plethora of leaves hanging just another foot in front of them. I easily severed the vines with a quick burst of wind, while I had to use pinpoint accuracy with an icicle to sever the leaf, catching the supplies with another levitation spell. This magic was beginning to be a corrosive action on my body’s mental limits. I had not fully comprehended the inner machinations and causes of the inner power of a single being, and concentration and control, while still in my grasp, was beginning to slip.

Starting with the leaf, I peeled the current one, set over my eye, off of its resting place before throwing it to the ground Feeling the skin above and below my eye, I noticed that the bleeding had stopped, and that fresh plots of fur were beginning to crop up. However, a disturbing revelation hit me when I finally opened my left eye.

I was blind; my left eye had been permanently disabled by the arrow. Well, it’s not like I needed it? I could still see fine, but this would become an annoying hindrance in detection and my peripheral vision. My time in the Arena was only going to be that much more of a challenge.

Bringing the vines back to my grasp, I positioned myself on the branch I stood, taking a seat on the wood as I began to knot the vines around my body. If I was going to rest, I would need a viable way of securing myself so that I didn’t plummet back down to the soil and fall into the paws of whatever warrior happened upon me. Finally secured, I took one more swig of water from the moisture around me before wrapping myself within the comfort of my wings and letting unconsciousness take over.

I woke to the sound of rustling down on the forest floor. Looking up from my slumber, I noticed that night had fallen. The stars had already been strewn across the sky, the moon gracing the Arena with its splendor.

However, its pale, pristine splendor had been replaced by a grim omen on the midnight canvas.

Instead of the white beacon that the moon typically was, the full moon above me had been flushed Harvest Red. It was a terrible omen of blood and death approaching. I was in danger, and I had to move. Unfurling my wings, I froze the moisture around my at a single point in my paw, creating an ice knife in my grip as I began to saw through the vines that held me in place. The vegetation snapped in seconds, freeing me from its grip as I took to my feet, taking hold of my weapon after plucking it from its sheath.

If there were any other convicts, they were most likely the people that had disturbed my wonderful slumber. It stood to reason that I should travel on the ground rather than in the trees, as my movement would create a greater disturbance. My eyes began to dart from tree limb to tree limb as my body followed in perfect time, keeping a steady beat in my descent back to the forest floor. Lading back on the firm ground and readying my staff for any oncoming attack, my head began to slowly scan the surrounding scenery. My cat-like vision was certainly one of my more preferred assets, other than my wings of course, as it allowed me to see in complete darkness; a feat impossible for standard human eyesight. With my vision impaired, however, I lit a small flame in the palm of my hand; the one thing that I could do with fire.

Nothing dared approached my position as my head continued to swivel, taking in every detail of my area. Five trees, three bushes, the rest of the area empty ground. The fog that had hovered over the ground this morning had dispersed. I heard the snap of a branch behind me, and instinctively swung my blade, releasing an icicle at my target. I heard it impact with *thunk*. It had most likely impacted a tree, but I was about to be, unfortunately, corrected.

I saw a flash of light from where the icicle had traveled, a burning ball of fire soon taking its place as I rolled out of the inferno’s path. I had been followed, and my assailant wasn’t alone. Either that or my small fire, now extinguished, gave me away. Rapid footsteps began to come from behind me as I detected the ringing of a blade cutting through air. I swung my staff back around, blocking the edge of short-sword that would have cleaved my skull in two. Looking up at my attacker, I noticed that something was very wrong with him.

His eyes were blood red, and anger dripped from his maw as his teeth seethed in rage. Something was not right with him, and it wasn’t his fault. I kicked my opponent away, causing him to stumble and ready for another strike while his partner came from the shadows wielding a wooden shield and the same bloody tint in his eyes, and battle axe in his free paw. Soon after the first two had revealed themselves, three, no, four more soldiers had come stepping out of the darkness, and each wielded a different weapon. One a dual-bladed staff, much like my own; one a humongous claymore, almost as large as he was; one a stunning rapier that begged to pierce my flesh, and one dual-wielding sabers, curved with an excellent finesse. They all had the same disturbing glare of red in their pupils, and a look to kill burned through my very body. This was something straight out of a horror movie, and I was the unfortunate victim caught between a psychopath and a wall.

“Do you like what I’ve done with them?” asked an unknown voice from the darkness. His tone was soaked in sinister intentions and dripping with malice. The man was a serial killer, and a very experienced one at that. This was his domain, and I was the unfortunate rabbit that had walked into his trap.

I merely let out a low growl of disgust as a response. Full body control; a sickening and vile spell. I reeked with the deaths of a countless array of his other victims.

“The ‘Your Blood, My Blood’ spell. An excellent edition when you don’t want to get your paws dirty.”

Each of the brainwashed felons began to inch closer and closer to me, readying their weapons to strike and pierce my body.

“Destroy him.” the voice of my attacker ordered, and like dogs, the soldiers of the murderer attacked.

The one wielding the shield was the first to come at me, twirling his battle axe as a first strike. I side-stepped to avoid the blade, bringing my own down to try and sever the axe-head from the hilt. My assailant countered by turning his weapon, stopping my blade short with the flat of his axe, following the block up with a smack from his shield. The blow left me dazed, allowing the axe-wielding felon to charge me. Recovering as soon as possible, I readied myself again, sweeping the ground just as my attacker was to strike, knocking him to the ground. To avoid being open for a finisher, however, the warrior rolled, using his shield to assist him as he leapt back to his feet. The more competent warriors had come out now; the archer was made for long range, and I was incredibly outmatched.

While my current opponent readied himself again, the one with the rapier charged my from behind. It was only thanks to my ears that I was able to parry his thrust, kicking him back and sending an icicle in his direction. The pike, however, only grazed his skin, as he used his momentum to pull off a back-handspring and dodge my missile. The convict with the axe charged again, swinging his weapon down as I struck it aside, using the momentum to stab the shield in his free paw. I could hear the cracking as my weapon embedded itself in the defense of my opponent; I had successfully broken his hand, and quite possibly his arm. Using this advantage, I sent my fist straight into his face, dazing him again while I plucked the axe from his hand and brought it down upon his skull. It split like a pumpkin as his blood began to fill the forest. One down, five to go.

The warrior with the rapier and the feline with the sabers charged me in dual-attack formation, the first thrusting his weapon at me while the other waited for an opportune moment. I parried the blade again, only to be met with two curved weapons about to decapitate me. I spun to dodge, earning me a nick on the back as I thrust my weapon forward, cutting the saber-wielder’s left arm. He charged again, swinging both from above me as I blocked with my blade, kicking up dirt with my legs and blinding him for the moment. Using this, I stuck his right sabre from his paw and took hold of it, slinging him into his partner and sending them both tumbling into each other. To finish them off, I sent my staff screaming forward like a spear, hearing its cry for blood as it impaled their bodies, leaving them weakened as they convulsed on the forest floor, their life juices pouring from their bodies.

Three down, three to go.

Before I could continue my assault, however, the ground began to shake with unimaginable force. My body almost leapt into the air with each crash, and out of the darkness

Came the Juggernaut.

This was a lost fight; I couldn’t handle three more competent warriors and a hulking, armor wearing behemoth! With this in mind, I did the only thing that I could think of.

I ran. I ran into the swirling darkness of the night, not caring if my attackers followed or not. I had to get away, just to buy me enough time to formulate a strategy. I had to get away

Or my life was over.

Well, that’s it for the first day in the Arena! How’d you like it? Leave your comments and reviews in the comments section, as they are appreciated! See you guys next chapter!