Act I, Part VIII: Sero’s Game

By Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger

You never understand how much power a man like Sero has until it’s too late. Sure, I knew of him. Every rat knew of Sero, but few of us had ever actually met him and that was often deemed a good thing, because nobody wanted to end up on his bad side. Before all this, I had always figured if I got on his bad side, he’d just have one of his guys just pull me into an alley and put a knife in my back and that’d be that, but that’s not who he is. No. I was wrong about him. I thought he was a professional above all else given that’s how everyone always talked about him in the hushed tones we did, but he’s not a professional. He’s an animal. What kind of man gathers all of his political rivals and people who have wronged him into cages so they can kill each other for his entertainment? What kind of sick, twisted bastard does that?

Sero. Sero does that and now I’m just sitting here waiting for my match against someone whose name I don’t know and who knows their only hope of getting out of here alive is through killing me. I had heard of games like these happening all over the World Before, but I had never actually seen one—much less participated. But I don’t have a choice. I have to get to New Balmora and my only hope of getting there is if I can get out of here and that’s assuming the victor goes free, which I doubt. Sero’s probably looking for muscle and that’s why he’s got us doing this otherwise he would’ve already sold or killed us off. But he didn’t so that has to be what it is—it’s the only thing that makes sense.

I hear Sero talking. He’s congratulating the victor and giving a sarcastic lament to the deceased, “Oh a tragedy of the highest order to see such a sweet girl die so young, but, that sugar-nose of hers was always trouble. If only she had gotten a handle on it before it overtook her finances. How absolutely tragic.” Fetcher. Here he is, making us fight and kill each other and this is how he reacts? He gives biting sendoffs to the fallen? I suppose it just goes to show that Dro’garra wasn’t wrong when he said that it didn’t matter how far I ran, I’d always find monsters just as bad as him. I thought it was a lie; I hoped it was a lie, but it wasn’t. There’s monsters everywhere you look: Skriiva, Gabrin, Sero—who knows how many other monsters I’ve met and haven’t realized it yet. Doesn’t matter though. I’ll get through this and it doesn’t matter how many monsters are in my way, I’ll get to New Balmora and the Council will stop the Dagothites from ever escaping New Vivec. At least I hope so. I really really do.

I hear Sero again and he said my name. My fight must be coming up and to be honest, I’m not ready for it, but I hear the jailor’s keychain as he begins his descent down here to pull me from my cage. I killed for the first time yesterday and it was someone who needed to die, but this time, this is different. This is an act of murder against someone I don’t know, because it’s kill or be killed in this pit. I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself after this, but I don’t have a choice but to go forward. Do or die, Antuul. Do or die.

* * *

My body is covered in cuts, bruises, and blood, but I’m alive. I should’ve died a hundred times over today, but I’m alive. I’m somehow alive because something came over me in those fights and it all started with the Khajiit. I can’t describe what it felt like—it was just—an out of body experience almost. Something came over me and things just—happened. I heard the idol though and this time I didn’t hear it across an ocean—it was blasting in my ears to the point where I couldn’t hear anything and that warmth I felt from it—it engulfed me in what felt like my entire body was in a state of constant incineration. Everything hurt. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt before and I couldn’t see through it, but somehow, my body just acted. I don’t know how or what made my body do what it did, but as the pain subsided and the deafening melody came to fade, I saw the Khajiit who had been choking the life out of me dead on the ground. But his injuries, they weren’t normal. His face was unrecognizable and his skull concaved in, but there was more to it than that—his fur had been singed by the battery and I couldn’t explain it and neither could the spectators who stared at me in a mix of reactions: Awe, Amusement, Horror, Laughter. They didn’t know what to think and neither did I—I still don’t and I doubt they do either, but Sero, Sero knew exactly what to think.

“So the Rat managed to kill the Cat, truly, I am impressed. Send the next fighter. I want to see how long this Rat can go.”

He sent them at me one by one with hopes I’d eventually fall, but every time I got close, it happened again and I emerged the victor with enough time to catch my breath and spit out the blood and teeth I had lost. I’d look up at him after every round and his sarcasm began to melt away leaving only a tone of concern that I actually was going to win this thing. And when I did, he told me I was dead anyways—I wasn’t meant to win this little game of his. No, that honor was reserved for someone else—I couldn’t tell amidst the bodies, there were too many to really pay much attention—but he was infuriated that I had won and more than that, he was scared. I could tell by him calling his goons to finish the job the other contestants had clearly failed to and when they couldn’t, he and the spectators left. I could’ve gone after him and maybe I should have, but I didn’t. I climbed my way out of that pit on a mound of bodies he had sent to kill me and waiting for me as I emerged from it was the Idol. It hadn’t been there before and Sero hadn’t left it, but it was there waiting for me all the same even if just moments before, it hadn’t been.

I’m writing this as I sit here by the warmth of the campfire off the road to New Balmora. It’s a few days away and here’s to hoping the rest of the journey goes smooth. I just don’t want to hurt anyone else.

I’m tired of hurting people.

-Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger