LION

“Bring the lions out!”

“Bring the —“

“Bring the lions out!”

The crowd roared above me, eager for a show.

I stood alone in the shadows of the Colosseum.

I stood in the tunnel out to the arena. A low snarl and growl filled the sandy interior of the arena, and then a roar of pain and rage as the beasts were goaded away from the trapdoors. I raised my head, and felt my own eyes harden and flash. I could always feel them. And I could always feel my eyes. They were a flame-colored amber, and they did wonders in the dark. People had told me before that they seemed literally to glow. I paced slowly toward the light at the mouth of the tunnel, my strides measured and even. My fingers adjusted edgily on the spear in my right hand. I wasn’t nervous. I never had been. I was born to battle.

“Bring the Lion out!”

“Bring th—“

“Bring the Lion out!”

The crowd roared above me, eager for blood.

I smiled alone in the shadows of the Colosseum.

I was the Lion. The gold gauntlets around my wrists glittered in the growing light as I drew closer to the tunnel mouth. I stopped right at the edge, where I was still hidden from the crowd, and drew a breath. My eyes flickered hotly beneath the wide-banded coronet of gold that sat tight around my forehead. I looked down, checking my armor one last time for any weaknesses. My long dark hair fell forward over my shoulders, contrasting against the scarlet cape that fell back in loose folds. The Amazonian armor my mother had given me, in the last battle before I had been taken, glinted with gems and gold in intricate swirling designs. It was more for show than anything, covering my torso from collar bones to hips in glitter and shine.

“Bring the Lion out!”

“Bring the —“

“Bring the Lion out!”

The crowd roared above me, eager for me.

Alone in the shadows of the Colosseum, I felt heat growing deep inside me as I smiled, and poised myself to sprint out the tunnel.

Digging my sandal into the dust, I crouched low, and drew strength from the thrumming energy of the crowd's voice. I charged my spear with my own energy, and it seemed to glitter and flicker with the power I had sent through. I smiled wider and narrowed my eyes as I watched the gleaming, fiery tip, tendrils of flame-like light crawling sinuously along the bronze head. I exhaled slowly, feeling the air rolling out of my lungs in a silent hiss.

I was alone in the dark, in the shadows of the Colosseum.

I was ready.

I was eager.

Eager for a show.

Eager for blood.

I was the Lion.

And I wasn’t about to back down.

I pushed off the ground, dust flying after my fleeing foot, and sprinted out into the light.

..... .... ... .. .

The roar that greeted me made my blood rage fiercely in my veins, and my eyes sparked as I pumped my arm into the air and screamed my own challenge against them. I could feel every nerve spark with anticipation, every muscle tighten and burn. The voices rose and swelled up around me, as I turned steadily to face every angle of the circular arena. It was a massive flood of sound that rose and broke over me, crashed, and hissed down upon my ears. And it did not put out the flames. I straightened up and turned to face the other end of the arena, where the largest gates of all were slowly rattling open. The crowd’s voice died, and it looked on with intense eagerness to see my foe.

The lions gathered slowly around me, growling in pain as blood streamed down their haunches from the javelins and spears that had been used to goad them out. I held out a hand to my side, my gaze unwavering from the black gates squeaking coldly and menacingly open. A tawny and black mane pushed its way under my palm, and Azgrin, the pride leader, looked toward the gates with me. His lionesses fanned out around me, and I heard their thick tails thudding against their sides as they lashed them anxiously. I glanced back at them, into their dull golden eyes, and they calmed, lowering their heads as they turned to face the creature slithering out of the dark interior of the Colosseum dungeons. My eyes narrowed.

This was a creature I knew.

It had been many, many years since I had seen one, though.

The reptilian, snapping tentacles that preceded it waved around vaguely, lost, uncertain, but I knew.

I was not deceived by the helpless front.

The beast was feeling for its prey.

A hot mass pushed against my leg and Dinnia, Azgrin’s favorite, growled deep in her chest as she looked at the strange beast. I pulled my hand off Azgrin’s head and crouched low, looping my spear over my head to hang from the leather strap attached to it. I began to build tension in my hands, drawing power from the pride surrounding me. Flames flickered along my fingertips.

The creature finally revealed itself in the sunlight, its black skin smoking. It was a creature of the swamp, and its flesh was scorched in the light. The bulbous body pulsated, gleaming dully in the sun, and deep in the recesses between the scaly tentacles, was a massive maw of red, wet gums and fangs as long as the elephant tusks lining the edges of the arena. They were off-kilter and sideways, leaning in uneven clumps around the edges of the dripping mouth. And on either side of the huge fangs, a deep orange eye, blood vessels burst in the corners, gleamed hungrily out at us.

A Drizknoll, among the most ancient of eldritch evils.

I smiled.

The crowd didn’t realize just how well I knew to deal with this beast.

But neither did the lions.

Without waiting for directions, my pride plunged forward, a silent mass of leaping, surging glory and dirty gold. I called out to them to no avail, and I watched grimly as the first lionesses to reach the beast were seized in tentacles faster than the Emperor’s horses and devoured in the raging, drooling red mouth. My gaze hardened, and I felt the flames licking back from my eyes.

They were truly flaming now.

I walked forward, and shed the cumbersome cloak to the dust.

The crowd’s eyes watched me, like the many-eyed and sleepless Argus.

I had slain his children, many years ago, and they were more difficult than this creature was, especially without the mythic potion.

I broke into a run, the ground leaping with fire beneath my feet as I sprinted off to the right, around the bulbous black bulk of the Drizknoll’s body. Ducking beneath and weaving around and flying over the flailing tentacles, I reached the creature’s blind spot, and stopped to gain a perspective of the battle between it and my lions.

Scattered remains bloodied the sands, and my heart burned with rage against the black monster for the death of my pride.

I crouched low and shot forward, leaping up the round, shining body of the Drizknoll. My legs flew in long strides, leaping up the dark, thick-shelled curve of the spider-ish abdomen. I reached the summit and perched there, unslinging my spear, and froze for a moment, my flaming eyes again watching the battle below me.

I saw Dinnia seized in one arm, and instantly Azgrin had plunged toward the gripping limb and attacked it savagely. The mauled and mangled serpentine arm dropped into the dust, and Dinnia was freed — but only for a moment, as an unforeseen tentacle swooped down and forced her for the last time into the Drizknoll’s evil red mouth.

I screamed in rage, and Azgrin’s roar paralleled mine as he realized his mistake. Raising the spear above my head, I plunged the tip downwards into the very back of the creature’s knobbly, wrinkled black head. An unearthly shriek tore through the air as the Drizknoll arched its body in pain, and I ran for the side as the flailing tentacles began to rage and scuttle along the sides of the arena. Elephant tusks tore at its bulbous sides, further injuring the creature.

I leaped off and spread my arms, flying for a moment above the bloodied sands. I landed in a roll and went into a crouch, poised and waiting as I watched the creature slap fruitlessly at the ground as it tried desperately to escape the rankling spear plunged deep into its core.

I wasn’t finished yet.

My lions chased after it in a loose formation, but without their tall savannah grasses, their tactic was useless. The Drizknoll, regardless, paid them no heed. The spear was too much of a danger to it.

I stood up slowly and faced the rampaging monster. Drawing on the energy of the screaming crowd, flames began to materialize in the air around me, swirling around me in a disk of nearly invisible flames. Only the occasional orange glowing wisp in the circling flat mass revealed it. I lowered my head and closed my eyes, visualizing the Drizknoll and pinpointing my target. I felt the ground rumble, suddenly far closer to me than I expected, and my eyes snapped open to reveal the beast bearing down on me, its flailing tentacles filling my vision.

My heart stopped.

Impossible.

I couldn’t die this way. I had always been the victor — and if I didn’t kill this thing, who could?

Before I could even process what was happening, I felt a huge weight smash against my shoulder, and I was flung out of the way of the Drizknoll. The energy scattered and lost, I rolled in the dust and pushed myself up to see Azgrin standing above me, his face to the Drizknoll. His lips were wrinkled back in a fierce snarl and his thick tail lashed angrily in the air above me. I got swiftly to my feet and stood beside him, drawing harder and faster on the audience’s mad energy.

Azgrin felt the heat and leaped away, towards the Drizknoll, and immediately set himself again to the attack.

Soon, flames surrounded me, dull and faint in the sun, and I drew myself up and raised my arms as if I were hurling a weight. And, in a way, I was; the flames were not a simple thing to wield.

I shouted at Azgrin, but he did not heed. The lion leaped forward one last time, and the Drizknoll’s arm snapped my pride leader up.

Azgrin was gone.

My face twisted in rage, and with a final scream, I flung my arms forward, sending a whirling pillar of fire straight into the beast’s wide-open red maw.

One thing about Drizknolls: they’re extremely flammable on the inside.

The noise and confusion that followed were beyond words. The beast jerked and shuddered, and a screech of pain and utter rage filled the air around me. I stood in the face of it, fiery tears coursing down my cheek at the loss of my pride, as the Drizknoll’s scaled arms lashed horribly around me. It twisted and jerked, its screaming shrieks and wails only growing louder as my fire consumed it from the inside out. It arched its foul head toward the sky, and I saw flames begin to burst through the spiracles along its sides. They licked around the edges of the holes, but the creature’s skin was incredibly resistant to flame, and they did nothing. I stood still, unmoving, even when a tentacle crashed against the sand right beside me, close enough to shift my hair in the breeze it created.

I watched it die.

When the shriveled husk finally lay, silent and still, smoking in the sun, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

I stood alone in the light of the Colosseum.

My entire pride had vanished into the creature’s vile maw, and their funeral pyre lay before my eyes, a smoking ruin.

I stood alone in the light of the Colosseum.