A Barbarian

"Wooooo!" The crowd roared in the stands. The high-ranking guests were befuddled at how the mage's attack was dispelled. 

Siroos landed on his fallen body on all fours. The mage had his face contorted in fear and before he could attack the huge lion again, Siroos huge jaw opened and his fangs descended on his face, mangling and tearing it. 

Mage's shouts of horror filled the arena's air but we're soon muffled as Siroos tore out his windpipe. 

The other lion was trying to injure Siroos by tearing at his thick skin from behind as he tore his partner apart. Literally tearing him from limb to limb as his angry snarls silenced the crowd. 

Cassandra was horrified at the brutality she was witnessing. She wished to sink into the ground, but her barbarian partner was fighting two opponents alone. 

Gathering herself up and mustering all the courage that existed in her body she rushed to the opponent. Her glistening sword, embroiled in a magical glint, stretched out.

"Ahhhh!" She screamed in pain and pierced the sword into his belly with brutal force. The magic pulsed all around her like flickers of fireflies, gathering in her sword and turning her attack fatal. 

A loud painful screech was let out by the gigantic creature as it let go of Siroos and fell to the ground. Its head flailed to one side, it breathed its last and its amber eyes closed. 

But Siroos hadn't even stopped mauling the body of the poor mage who was long dead. His eyes he had plucked out of sockets and nothing much remained apart from the big crimson puddle of body parts and insides. 

Seeing the mess, Cassandra's stomach unsettled and turning around she retched, throwing out whatever was in her stomach. 

The gong sounded again, announcing their victory but the guards had to intervene and separate Siroos's hulking self from what remained of the poor mage. The defensive magic was put into effect. 

Cassandra was guided out by a guard and quite a few were needed to control Siroos.

The crowd was wild, though; they loved a massacre. 

The man sitting beside Tholarian had a smirk going as he muttered under his breath while taking a sip of fine wine from his goblet. 

"Typical Siroos."

"That warrior is befitting for our arena and the crowd seems to love him. I would like to keep him," Tholarian said in amusement, seeing the crowd's reaction.

"Let the final match complete," he cryptically answered, the amusement danced in his yellowish-orange eyes as well as voice. 

Back in the room, Cassandra dropped to the floor as far away as possible from Siroos. Her sword clattered to the ground. He shifted in his human form but blood had completely splattered his body and face. 

His leg was injured from where the lion shifter had mauled it, but the wound was already healing, and he didn't seem to care. 

His bloodshot eyes wandered to a scared-to-wits Cassandra and he grumbled. 

"Injured?" 

She fearfully shook her head and gathered her legs closer to her chest trying to become as small as was possible. 

"Bloody bastard, going for a kill, underestimating me," he spat out, the blood dripping from his chin. Siroos had thought they would play around a bit, prolonging the match for the entertainment of the crowd as he had been told. 

But the mage had tried to kill the Princess with one shot and it had pissed him off to no bounds. By the time Siroos saw electricity crackling on his fingers he had already launched the first attack with the intention of killing. 

Did they defy the king or does he desperately want his daughter dead?

Seeing her condition, Siroos could sense she was soft, too soft. Not fit for this world or his. His world was far bloodier than this one. 

How she had survived so long baffled him now. 

The fear had crawled up her big violet eyes and she refused to make eye contact with him. 

Siroos grabbed an extra piece of cloth lying there and began wiping the filthy blood from his body. 

He was pissed would be an understatement. His mind was blasting with a thousand ideas at that moment as his eyes kept flickering to the girl in the corner. She was blankly staring at her hands. 

"You did good," he tried to bring her back to reality and her teary eyes flitted towards him. 

"I just took someone's life. What good did I do? Not that a barbarian like you can understand that. It comes naturally to you," she shouted at him in disgust. The tears finally fell from her eyes, and his heart ached; her words stung like the scorpion's stinger. 

"It's the arena, you kill or you get killed. Did you want to die? Princess," he asked, suppressing his anger. 

"It's better to die than live like a bloody killer," she retorted back, "Not everyone is raised to be a killer." Her whole body was shaking at this point, she couldn't believe she had just taken someone's life. 

"So that's what you think I am? A killer and a barbarian?" His left brow arched so gracefully as his lips thinned into a straight line of displeasure. 

"Think? Haven't you shown it so openly? Not a shard of remorse did I find on your face?" She accused, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She hadn't planned to shed them in front of him.

"Pardon! I didn't have the time to mourn the people trying to kill us, Princess Cassandra," he mocked; his voice upped a notch, it thundered, and Cassandra visibly flinched at his raised tone. Her lips quivered and she bunched them together to keep them from downturning further. 

He instantly regretted it, but before he could speak, she shifted her body and turned herself away from him.

Facing the wall she closed her eyes, letting her head rest on it. Praying that this horror would soon end and she could go back to her life. Not knowing her whole life was about to be toppled.