Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On a hot summer day, in the middle of a Kingdom, a huge arena gladiator arena stood. Dominating as the best sight of the area, being the second largest building in the city. The first one being, of course, the actual castle but it still came to a close second.

But we aren't focusing on the arena nor the castle right now, but a stone building connected to the arena. The building where a sword just flew out of a window, breaking the said window into a million of pieces.

Yet, the sight hadn't surprised any bystanders and ignored the event. You see that small building was the dining hall for the gladiators that fought in the ruthless arena beside it.

Calling it a dining hall would give it too little credit though, better yet to call it home.

Made of stone, the high ceiling reminded most of the gladiators of a church. The only light sources were the high windows that let in daylight and at night flimsy candles that needed to be relit often.

One half of the room was filled with beds pushed together for space, giving you absolutely no privacy at night. It wouldn't be unusual to wake up to having someone's arms draped across your chest.

But of course, if you had a problem with it you are more than welcome to sleep against the stone cold wall where bugs, rats and other atrocities could climb up on you and make nest in your hair.

The beds took up one half of the room, the other half - in a similar fashion - was multiple tables pushed together creating one long one.

At the corners were crates with food and general supplies.

Next to them was a pot filled with... something. It was brown, it was mushy but it tasted good and none of them are willing to complain.

And the crashed window was too, ignored by the gladiators inside. The weapon was thrown in the midst of an argument, another daily occurrence that didn't phase any other residents in the room.

But like I just said, it was an uninteresting daily occurrence that no-one paid mind to, but like the fight no one paid interest to the dining table and the uninteresting gladiator who sat in the uninteresting seat.

That gladiator was named Evan, a gladiator in his early twenties that observed people like an owl. Paying attention to every occurrence that made sense in this world of violence.

He shuddered, as he felt someone flicking his ear - guess he pays attention to anything but himself - Evan turned around to confront the irritating bastard but stopped as he saw the identity of the annoyance.

It was his friend, Tyler. Sitting there with a cocky grin. "Spying at everyone again, I see?"

"It's not spying unless its in secret." Evan retorted with a grin and grabbed his bread from his plate and bit into it.

"Heard that someone important is watching the battles today," Tyler informed Evan as he pulled up a seat by Evan. "Maybe it's the King?"

"The King? Where did you hear that from?" Evan asked, his voice hardly audible through him still eating the stale bread. "The King hadn't been seen since the coronation, why would he show up for a battle arena?"

Tyler shrugged, paying no mind to the disgusting gesture. "The guards were saying to 'up the security'. I kinda assumed."

Evan rolled his eyes and gulped down the mush that used to be bread, he already wasted much time on breakfast. He stood up from his chair and raised his hands to stretch them.

Tyler too stood up, but not before nicking Evans cup and taking a huge gulp of it and placing it back down. Evan groaned, ew.

Tyler made no mind to the sound his friend made but cracked his knuckles and turned to leave the room. ''Come on' we got a fight today lets put in some extra training" Evan followed Tyler outside.

The duo was a package. One fights, the other follows suit. The audience adores them, Tyler heads first into a fight with his impulses alone while Evan waits for his opportunity to strike. Two completely different fighting styles but the two make it work.

Many other gladiators envy the two, a bond like that rare in a place like this. Never knowing if your partner is going to be sent alone and die. So many gladiator team-ups are only for the actual fighting and two-halves stay away from each-other not wanting to be attached. But Tyler and Evan broke this tradition by sticking close in and out of the arena.

His train of thought was broken by Tyler clicking his fingers in front of him, "Get your head of the clouds fuckboy, we have the fight to train for."

Evan grinned at the 'insult'. "Shut the fuck up," He punched Tyler playfully, "Who are we fighting anyway?"

"I think like- some weak-ass prisoners? I don't know, the guard said prisoners and left me with my dick hanging" Tyler opened the door to the outside as he said the distasteful joke, which Evan laughed at anyways.

Prisoners huh? It's not like him and Tyler never fought prisoners before but who knows what challenges will they bring.

Evan took a deep breath of the summer air, taking in the scene in front of him. He remembers before the arena was in full force this area was filled with grass but now sand was thrown on top of it to soften the fall of training gladiators and a hastily made fence out of thick sharpened logs pointing out the boundaries the gladiators had.

And that they were just prisoners and they will die in the arena a gorey bloody death and this is all their fault, this all their fault, this is my fault, this is my fault.

Shut up. Evan took a deep breath, this is a bad time to think of this. Really bad time to think of the past. Evan glanced at Tyler, who was like always strapping a fake pig mask upon his face.

On the arena, Tyler is known as Wildcat.

Although only one half of the name is true, he is wild in battle but he is not in any case agile nor graceful like a cat.

That part comes from one of his victories, Tyler is one of the few people who fought a hungry lion by himself in the arena and won.

Tyler doesn't like to talk about it though, the only thing that shows that he fought it was a nasty scar right across his face where the lion struck. People told Tyler to not cover it up, he should be proud! He should glaze in the glory of the victory! But he doesn't. After the fight, he changed. For the worse or better? Evan still doesn't know exactly how he changed but his general aura turned, his presence became stronger.

Evan doesn't know why.

Focusing back on the training area, he jogged over to the weapons part of it, where shitty leather armour was sprawled over the floor and only a few swords and axes were actually on the designated rack, rest thrown on the floor by tired gladiators.

Evan grabbed a wooden dummy sword that barely made damage but was perfect for training. In the corner of his eye, Tyler picked up a mace and shield. Evan turned around on his heel and walked to the nearest training dummy. Glancing around, he took a look at the other people beside him who were also slashing at the rice-filled bags that were stuck onto more pointy sticks.

Beside him was one of the new guys. Bruce was it? No- Bryce. A relatively young guy who barely could hold a sword. They're going to maul him out there surely, but if rumours were true he paired up with Ryan, but that won't last long. Ryan is known for his partners tragically dying a week after him starting to join up with them.

But Evan stayed away from Ryan and Ryan is honestly not his concern right now but the training dummy infront of him that till haven't been slit open. So he got to work.

An hour or maybe, five, and a few breaks in between, a knight in shining steel armour entered the arena with a scroll. Another uninteresting thing that was yet another daily occurrence. The knight unfolded the scroll and read out his and Tylers name that they were up to fight.

"Next up is BatOwl and WildCat!" The knight shouted over the sounds of swords clashing, Evan dropped his sword onto the ground beside the training dummy and jogged over to the knight.

BatOwl, that's him. Tyler joined after, and so without another word the Knight led them out, through the dining hall and through another set of doors that led to the actual arena. They walked down a long hallway and stopped at a set of stairs. By the stairs, a rack of actual weapons stood.

Actual silver swords that shined in the light and could actually cut flesh right through with the right strike. Evan grabbed a one-handed sword that was on the rack and felt the weight of it against his hand. Hell yeah. Tyler also grabbed a proper mace and shield but with less theatrics and lusting over some stupid metal.

The knight nodded as the two started walking up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway, technically right now it would be the perfect chance to escape but that would result in knights doing a kingdom-wide search and having the order to kill the escaped gladiator on sight.

So not a good idea to escape.

On the top of the stairs was a 'dead-end' but gladiators knew that the small floor under them was just a moving platform that went up. Evan and Tyler stood in one place and listened to the engines of the machine revving up to move the platform up.

Evan looked up to see a dark patch where the ceiling would be but as platform moved up a light has stood out. When the reached the top they were stuck out in front of a gate. Through the cracks, you could see the arena.

With another loud engine crash, the gate pulled up. Light coming through from the bottom and more and more divine light blinding him and Tyler. When the gate was open at the right height Evan walked forward, his arm in front of his eyes to shield him from becoming blind.

A few more steps infront of him, Evan entered the arena, and although he made the same routine every-time when called for a fight. And yet, the energy of the arena still shocked him, still made his heart beat a million different ways.

With a big smile, he looked around the circular arena, thousands of people from all corners of the kingdoms just to watch him. Him.

Okay not him, probably for Tyler and the hundred other gladiators who fight every day. He might have been a bit conceited.

"BATOWL! WILDCAT!" The crowd shouted, but that's not the only thing the crowd did. The crowd were stomping their feet and hitting their fists on the sides of their seats creating extra rhythm and vibrations all across the arena.

The two gladiators jumped down to the middle of the area, the crowd giving them a huge confidence boost they both needed.

They took in it all in, all the shouting, the vibrations, everything. It was glorious.

With a booming voice the arena quieted down, and everyone looked over to the source of it.

In the middle of the seats was an opening, a hole per say in the seats where the important guests say at. The perfect place for the arena enthusiasts that came to get a break from the Kingdom politics. It was the perfect place to see the gore just close enough to revel in it but yet not close enough to get hit by the blood.

And such at the oh-very-special seats was a person clad in black cloth that was obviously to hide the person's identity but enough to see through. At their side was a knight, but not just a normal knight but most specifically the Kings personal guard Cartoonz. The guard who is tasked to protect the King himself.

And for him to leave the Kings side, who was this person in the cloth even?

Cartoonz leaned on the railing before him, letting everyone to see him. In the now, quiet stadium there was no need for Cartoonz be as loud as he was trying to quiet down the stadium.

"Thank you, everyone, for attending! As everyone knows, today someone you all know and love is overseeing the matches today!" Cartoonz gestured to the person. "King Delirious himself!"

With that, there was a loud noise from the crowd. It was a mixture of boos and cheers.

Evan felt a nudge at his side, he saw Tyler elbowing him with a smirk. He was right.

The two looked back up to see the King barely twitching annoyingly as if he wanted to be the one introducing himself.

Cartoonz coughed and the crowd went quiet.

"Now, without further adieu~" Cartoonz waited for a few beats before saying, "Let the fight begin!" The crowd went wild.

Evan looked back down to see the gate across from theirs open to see multiple people in armour and weapons charging out.

Most of them looked weak and thin. It was like Tyler said. They were prisoners sentenced to death.

Tyler rushed in, his mace flying around pushing prisoners away at ease, his shield throwing around others.

Evan saw that this was his chance to strike, he gripped his sword and ran in. He pushed behind Tyler, their back to each other.

Evan took a deep breath and started slicing, guts flew around. Blood not being sparse and covering Evan and Tyler like a shower.

Evan spit out some blood, the metallic taste is not a thing he will ever get used too.

He kicked one prisoner into another, creating a domino effect of sorts, making some of them fall down. Evan smirked and he plunged his sword into one of the fallen, blood gushing out as he pulled out the sword with ease.

Tyler, on the other hand, used a different approach, using his shield he pushed the prisoners down and with his mace destroyed their faces.

There was one more prisoner on his side, a burly one which seemed to know what he's doing. Evan smiled, this one will be a challenge.

Evan ran towards the prisoner and threw down his sword. In which the prisoner retaliated with their swords clashing together, the two fighting for dominance over the sparkling swords. If Evan wasn't paying attention to the prisoner he would have noticed the sword cracking under the pressure.

After a second Evan was decidedly bored of this and kicked the prisoner's private parts. It was dirty, he knows but who is there to judge? The audience only cares about action, gore and screams of pain. Which the prisoner provided by shouting profanities holding his lower region in pain.

Evan smirked and went in for the kill, he raised his sword over the prisoner's head and struck. Landing his sword right between the eyes, but Evan didn't stop there. He pushed deeper, the hilt of his sword to the lips. Evan pulled out and jumped back down.

The prisoner froze and fell to his knees. Then the blood came, flowing out of the halved head quickly, showering him, Tyler and the close audience.

Evan was filled adrenaline. He looked at Tyler who was too, both of them smiling and out of breath. His friend grabbed his hand and pulled it up to the sky.

The crowd cheered for the winners. Shouting their names, enlarging their egos, as the two favourites stood covered in blood, around the dead bodies. It was not a sight for children.

And in between the cheers, screams of joy, the time has slowed down for Evan as he looked at the King.

The King was looking straight at Evan, even through the cloth he felt the King's eyes burn through him. Then the King stood, slowly but surely and raised his hand.

He raised his hand and pointed. Evan knew for sure at who. It could have been easily mistaken by an outsider but at that moment it was only Evan and the King.

The King was pointing at Evan.

Chapter Text

It was during the night that they came for him. Under the mask of the darkness- Evan woke up to see the half eyed guard of the King under the candle light.

His eyes widened seeing the sight of him- just yesterday the personal guard was so far- right hand man of the King as he announced his battle and revved up the audience. Just yesterday Evan saw Cartoonz stare in shock at the king as he pointed at Evan as the decision for something he was not aware of yet.

Evan couldn’t think since the end of the battle there more- of what the pointing meant- what the King had in mind, what the King that people called crazy picked him for as the golden crown on top of his glinted in the sunlight under the contrast of his dark sheet, hiding away his face to never be seen.

The gladiator just didn’t expect his answer to arrive so soon, he didn’t even say any goodbyes, “What are you going to do to me?” Evan simply whispered, sitting up to see Cartoonz better- the scar tracing down his eye appearing even more intimidating under the demanding darkness of the hall.

Evan looked at people- analyzed them, studied them for weaknesses to use in the thick of the swords- but he couldn’t understand Cartoonz expression. The emotions the other was feeling mixed into a face that Evan couldn’t comphered, a myriad of experiences and context he was missing to fully know.

Cartoonz looked down, a sigh escaping his lips. He looked back up staring at Evan in the eye- Cartoonz is superior, in strength and status- this is clear between the two men. “ Come,” Cartoonz finally spoke, stepping away from the bed and started to walk away. “I’ll explain on the way.” He didn’t bother waiting for the gladiator- leaving him to scramble between the sheets and go after him, Evan quickly put his shoes on- bad, broken leather shoes that he wore for years now. But he isn’t going to go barefoot to wherever the end of the line was.

Evan stared at other gladiators sleeping the beds- all in the same place as him, face the same things everyday, all murder, all spill blood in the name of nevercoming freedom. He hesitated as he passed Tyler asleep, snoring through the night as his scar staring Evan in the face. He looks away, silently apologizing to Wildcat for not saying goodbye, he hopes Tyler forgives him. The leaver quickly jogs past, not wanting to continue dwell on it; catching up with the guard walking out of the hall- Evan a few steps behind him.

Cartoonz was wearing armour, his metal shoes clinking against the stone as he walked with his head up high- he’s better than these mindless gladiators, he shouldn’t be here, he should be with the King, protecting him against threats. And instead he is here to fetch a piece of entertainment to the masses to- Evan coughed, his assumption of the thoughts of the man he was following soon ended, not sure what he was being fetched for actually.

Normally, Evan wouldn’t be so nervous but its the King we’re talking about here, the two walked through the hall, the guard at watch for the the night simply nodding at Cartoonz- with it being curtly responded before the professionalism returned, Evan stared at Cartoonz back, the gray of the stone visibly bland against the red of the guards cape, red as blood that is spilled on the battlegrounds, yet not even comparable. Maybe the red is blood but not the dirty kind that Evan spills- royal, regal, the red of Cartoonz cape is blood of gods that dare to defy his King.

Or maybe Evan is just reaching, looking for some kind of comfort in his frenzy of nerves- the two finally arrived at the end of the hallway, Cartoonz opening the double doors and letting the night air hit them, Evan flinches and Cartoonz continues walking. Evan runs to catch up after the man- the road under their feet filled with stones. It's completely dark as the shadow of the colosseum hides the light of the moon.

Evan regains his vision just in time to see Cartoonz board a carriage. Blue, the Kings crest on the side. A jockey sits by the white horses that seem like a guiding light in the darkness of the shadow. The contrast between the red and grays of Evans life seem to hide in shame in the light of the royal colors.

The personal guard flips a coin at the jockey- who scrambles to catch it like a wounded man for ambrosia. But Cartoonz already moved on, jumping up onto the carriage- leaning down to enter it.

Evan slowly follows looking at the jockey who is pocketing the money into a bag, a piece of coin that the guard just out of mind threw in his general direction while the Jockey counted it for his goal.
A divide between the two people in terms of money, but in the end? Are they any different? Both work for the king- just in different ways- in different proximity- in- “You’re coming or not?” His train of thought was interrupted by the guard he was just thinking of. Scowling at him as he leaned out of the carriage, “Yes- Sorry.” Evan politely answered, his stare stolen away from the jockey who was sitting down at the reigns for his job.

The gladiator climbed up to the fancy carriage, gold rims echoed throughout the vehicle- Cartoonz not phased- used to the regal colours and the amount of money alone must have been put into this alone.

Evan felt extremely out of place in here, his breath uneven as he sat opposite of Cartoonz. Who was staring out the window, waiting for something? Evan opened his mouth to say something but realised he got nothing. He closed his mouth, looking outside also to avoid looking at the displeased man. His home staring him back at his face- his home he can just stare at and not say goodbye to properly.

Even then, Evans thoughts drift to Tyler, his partner will be gone in the morning, there won’t be anyone to watch his back and make jokes with- no more teasing about spying at breakfast or- or- Who is he kidding? Evan is talking about himself now, Tyler will be fine. Evan will miss these things.

He doesn’t know where he is going, he can’t guarantee it isn’t something good- a light at the end of the fight but Evan can’t shake the feeling of an axe around his neck ready to be split and his dirty blood be spilt on the shoes of the King in an execution.

Chapter Text

“Do you know why you’re here?” Cartoonz broke the silence. The soft rumbling of the carriage ignored as the vehicle rode over a rock or some unsuspecting animal, but he's in doubt for the later one, even the animals of the kingdom wouldn’t dare to defy the King.

Evan stared at Cartoonz, his eyes seemed to glow as the glare cut through Evan, guilty of something Cartoonz resents him for. “No, I-” Evan considered his words carefully, “Is this about how the King-” “Pointed at you?” Cartoonz interrupted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

“You heard of the tournament right?”

“Of course,” Evan replied, the tournament is a vague term, and he been in many but in this context only one the guard could be referring to.

One happens every three years, and anything about the champions and its training is kept under strict secrecy. The only name that is revealed is the winner of the year's tournament- who is given the title of the Strongest in the world. But they have always been defeated the next tournament anyway.

But that's just by the people organizing the tournament, dedicated reporters who attend the tournament always leak a list of names, and the details of losses and wins of fights get revealed.

Evan stared at Cartoonz, and on the eyepatch over his missing eye, the eye he got gouged out during the last tournament.

“You piqued… the kings’ interest.” Evan understands now, putting the dots together, however, a bit late. That's why Cartoonz was so annoyed by him, Evan is taking his place. “King Delirious chose you as a candidate to become champion.” The gladiator frowned, candidate?

Cartoonz leaned forward, “Personally, I think he is making a mistake.” A growl to his voice made Evan flinch away, the guard's scars glistening in the moonlight as he entered the light. The eyepatch establishing dominance. “You will die in that tournament- if the training doesn’t kill you first.”

The carriage stopped and so did Evans' heart. Evan felt like a child, thinking himself great for surviving the arena, being a star player. But that was all child's play- a vacation, a prequel. To something bigger than himself.

The door opened, as a servant stepped away, Cartoonz stood up, leaning down to step down. Evan followed him, hearing a soft “Shit, we’re late.” From Cartoonz as he started walking forward, Evan quickly following him.

The castle bellowed in front of them, the largest thing in the entirety of the region. Ivory towers that scrape the sky create a shadow that everyone else lives in. Bridges, gardens, courtyards and rooms alike create the silhouette of the extravagant building.

The fortress of solitude where only the royal family lives in.

The royal family consists of the King and his sister- and his sister is betrothed to another in a different kingdom.

Such a large castle for a single King.

The doorway before them was masked by countless of guards, who dispersed like mice as Cartoonz came through- walking forward into a long corridor. Catching up, Evan stepped beside him.

"What did you mean by candidate?" He asked the question he was wondering since the term was spoken.

Cartoonz let out a dark chuckle. "You think, that only one person out of the entire kingdom was chosen?" Cartoonz hurried up his pace- taking long strides ahead so Evan was left fumbling to get back to speaking distance.

"Many other warriors were chosen- all with good backgrounds and trained by the finest teachers." Cartoonz glanced at Evan. "I can't say the same about you whoever"

Low blow. Evan squirmed under the gaze, "The King chose me." He retaliated, making Cartoonz flinch visibly even from the gladiators view.

"Yes." The guard started, a long drawn out word thinking of what to say next. "He did. And I don't know what he was thinking."

"Did the King choose the others?"

"The others are well know highly trained individuals- I don't think it matters by whom they were recommended by-" Cartoonz dodged the question but Evan wouldn't let that go.

"I'm I the only was chosen by the King?" Feeling incredibly smug, Evan caught up to the angry guard.

"The others were recommended by people of high stature-"

"But not the King himself." The chase of words continued, the two were walking slowly. One attacking one defending.

"That does not matter. They are better than you and-"

"Yet they weren't good enough for the King."

Cartoonz sharply turned around, rage in his face as his eyes were red from anger and frustration. "The King is mad!" He took a strong step towards Evan, causing Evan to step back.

"Everyone knows this! You were chosen by a crazy king!" Evan stumbled back, falling onto the sandstone floor as he looked up in fear at the angered beast.

"You aren't going to be the champion. The others will eat you alive!" Evan felt like a rabbit, a wolf before him getting ready to pounce- claws unleashed. "You're just a filthy gladiator who doesn't have a sense of self nor morals."

He circles around him, Ecan suffocated as he struggles to follow him as Cartoonz dances around him with ease.

"You bathe in blood of dirty people with ease, just to entertain masses that come to see murder." With venom he spoke, staring at Evan from the podium above.

The gladiator didn't say anything. He was just eaten by the wolf, a white rabbit entering a den of wolves, massacred within the first minute.