I have many stories to tell, decades upon decades of lives that I could share. That I have shared. I see them all unfold one step at a time. I’ve whispered in the ear of poets and bards, seen pages printed that my haunting voice, settled in the mind of an author, spilled. Watching words come to life is the only way I feel connected anymore, so it’s all that I do. I don’t suppose I have any other choice. Death doesn't seem to be an option for me. 

I’ve told the stories of kings and queens, vikings and knights. I’ve watched kingdoms rise and fall but I've never told my story. If things aren’t told they’re forgotten and perhaps I was wishing to forget my own story. But no matter how many stories I tell, I can’t seem to forget my own. So, I’ll tell it, just this once. My name is Ciara, and my story starts far from the mountains I called home, in what's been named the Great Empire of Rome. Now I shall warn you, my story is not a kind one but continue as you wish. 

“Get up.” A voice whispered in my ear, and I shot upright, my fists flying on instinct. Felix caught them and slapped a hand over my mouth. I bit down hard, and he let go. 

“What’s your issue?” I snapped, anger broiling in my voice. “You harass me all day, the least you can do is let me sleep for more than a couple hours.” 

“We have somewhere to be.” He spoke. 

“You mean someone lined your pocket with gold to see the great Northern Curse?” I questioned. 

“Shut up and get dressed.” He said. It was still dark in the bunk room, but I slipped on my sandals and stood up with a stretch, taking as long as possible, feeling Felix’s eyes boring into me. I threw my icy hair back into a braid and glared at him. Felix was a trainer at this school and the number of times he’d woken us up at strange hours for some training exercise or another made this seem normal. 

Twelve. That’s how old I was when I was taken. I grew up in the high mountains of the far north, where snow and wind whirled year-round. That's before the English came, the came at night and burned my village to the ground. I was sold countless amounts of times, I ran, I fought, and I killed because that’s all I knew how to do. Eventually I wound up here, at a gladiator school in the city of Rome. My ice pale skin and even lighter hair made me a novelty and I quickly figured out how to use that to my advantage. I became a gladiator that people feared. I survived.  

We walked out of the bunk room quietly as the other girls were still sleeping and made our way downstairs. This wasn’t the first time he’d woken me up like this. It normally meant that someone with a lot of money had forked it over to see me, The Northern Curse, compete in a private show. 

“Here.” He handed me a cloak and I pulled it up, throwing my face into shadow. Before we left the school grounds and onto the streets of Rome. I followed him, ignoring the goings on of the world around me. I had walked these cobbled streets before; they offered me nothing except more bruises and pain. Suddenly, he pulled me into an alleyway that was barley lit and he hesitated before speaking. 

“You want to go home, right?” He asked. 

“What?” 

“Go home to the North, gain your honor back. That’s what your people do?” 

“There’s no such thing as gaining honor back.” I snapped. “This place took that from me.” 

“So, you just want to die here?” he asked. “In some fight against some beast?” 

“It doesn't matter.” I said. 

“What?” It was his turn to look confused. 

“The moment I fought for someone that wasn’t my people, I lost my honor. I’ll never join my people in the next life. I don’t know what waits for me after death.” He looked at me for a moment longer before turning and continuing walking. Eventually we came upon a grand house with pillars of marble out front and large statues. I had never fought here before. Felix knocked and the door was cracked open and the two of us entered. A silence fell over the small crowd that had gathered inside. I froze, sizing up the men and women in front of me. 

“I brought her. What do you want?” Felix spoke, taking his hood down and addressing the crowd. I was beyond confused. This wasn’t a fight, there were no guards, no animals or other fighters, everyone stared at me with a little bit of fear. 

“Child. Welcome.” A tall man stepped forwards and spread his arms open. “Welcome to the downfall of Rome.” 

“Those of us gathered here have decided that Rome feeds the hands of the powerful and the people suffer for it. It’s time for a new reign.” 

Over the next hour I learned about this group of people that had been plotting the deaths of Rome’s powerful people for over a year now. One step at a time and each little decision would eventually lead to the death of Caesar. Felix had been a part of it since the beginning.  

“What do I have to do with this?” I said, interrupting a man as he rambled on about the slave trade. 

“Right now, you’re one of Caesar's prized possessions. Other fighters look up to you, they’ll follow your lead.” Felix said slowly. 

“Oh.” It made sense now. “You want me to start an uprising within the arenas.” 

“We need things to start collapsing little by little. One thing at a time and the entertainment needs to go down. If you do this, of course, we can arrange your passage home. I believe you come from the lands where the Viking warriors live?” The man, his name was Claudius, asked. He was a hopeful man; you could see it in his eyes. 

“I think about it.” I said, trying to process everything. 

“Good, good, now go rest Child, you fight tonight.” He said, waving Felix and I out the door. I left in a state of disbelief and felt Felix’s eyes on me. 

“I fight tonight?” I asked, not wanting to discuss the weight that had just been placed upon my shoulders. 

“Yes, it should be an easy win for you.” He said. 

“It’s never easy.” I said. 

Looking back on this night I realized it was the beginning of the end, I was seventeen years old at the time and I would be dead by the month's end. I ended up accepting the offer extended to me. I vowed to do my part to cause the downfall of Rome. If I could stop them from taking one more little girl and raising her to be a cold-blooded warrior I would.  

I raised my arms, facing the arena crowd. Thousands of voices screaming my name as the sand of that arena floor soaked up even more blood. I turned my head and walked back into the cell I had been released from for this fight. As soon as the door closed, I collapsed, sliding down the cold wall and feeling the stone under me. 

“Ciara, hey, look at me.” Felix knelt next to me, and I felt his hands removing the breastplate that hadn’t protected me at all. I had won but the man took his toll on me before he died. “I think they’re just bruised. Not broken.” Felix said as he prodded my ribs. 

“I know.” I whispered. My head was pounding and everything hurt. 

“Come on. You’ll spend the night in the infirmary.” Feliz hoisted me to my feet, and I just remember being in a haze the rest of the night. The man’s eyes were burned into my head along with every other person who had met the end of their days on the end of my blade. 

I could describe to you every fight that I had ever been in, I remember them all and I don’t think those will ever stop haunting me. I remember everything.  

I woke up a couple of hours later to see Felix sitting at the end of my bed, his legs crossed, and eyes closed. I groaned slightly, clutching my ribs and pain shooting through every limb. Felix woke up and concern rushed across his face. 

“Ciara that one was too close.” he said shaking his head. 

“Why do you care? I die, you’ll replace me with some other girl the same day.” I was being realistic. That’s how things worked here, I'd seen the bodies of fallen fighters dragged out and piled beneath a statue, dumped like garbage just for more to appear the next day. 

“I’m not replacing you.” He snapped. He sounded angry and as I looked, I realized his hand was clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. “You can’t be replaced.” He said a little quieter. 

“Tell me how our plan is working.” I said, changing the subject. 

“It’s going well. Your message is spreading, outrage is building. I’ve heard from three other schools of fighters now.” 

“Good. So have I, we’re talking behind the walls. I appreciate you keeping their handlers busy.” I said. Fighters didn’t really have friends, but we respected each other, and talked fast. I had singled out a couple people I knew would be onboard. 

“Although Marcus is causing a bit of a stir.” Felix said and I groaned. Marcus was a very angry soul, a couple years older than me and a warrior to his core. He had been wanting to hurt Rome for years. 

“He always does.” We fell quiet then, the weight of what we were doing settling in the room. Felix was the only person who I'd ever let myself feel pain in front of. I don’t really know why, after all I had tried to kill him on my first day here. 

“Why are you doing this?” I asked suddenly. 

“What?” 

“Felix, you’re high born, you have a good life in Rome. You have everything. Why would you throw that all away for a slim chance this will succeed?” 

“I’m tired of seeing everyone around me in pain.” He said looking at me. 

This, to me, was a strange conversation. I didn’t realize then that Felix cared about me, I didn’t realize until it was too late. I didn’t realize that he was a good man. But I spent the next couple of weeks preparing and speaking with fellow fighters. We’re preparing, behind closed doors, for an all-out war. Deep down, I knew my soul was already lost but maybe, maybe those around me could have another chance to live. For once I felt something inside me, a spark of hope that hadn’t shown its face since the day I was taken.  

“Ciara, we need to talk.” Felix grabbed my arm and pulled me into a corner. I glared at him. My fighting braids were in, and I was preparing for yet another fight. My ribs were still incredibly sore, and I needed to focus. But he looked nervous. He hadn’t let go of my arm and I couldn’t help but realize how pale I looked next to him. 

“What, Felix, I have to get ready.” 

“There’s talk among the nobles.” He said hurriedly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean I think they’ve caught wind of our plan.” He said and I felt my heart sink. 

“How much do they know?” I asked. 

“I don’t know.” He spoke. “We have to get you out of here.” 

“What? I can’t just leave. Just spread the word that we’re moving it up, this weekend during the Grand Fights.” I said, putting my foot down. 

“We have to keep you safe.” he pleaded, and I shook my head. I knew they’d caught wind of our plans when I entered the arena and standing in front of me were two men twice my size with bloody grins on their faces. I sent up a prayer and I left that arena covered in blood and wanting to disappear yet as always, the crowd screamed my name and coin exchanged greasy hands. 

Just a couple days later was the Great Fights. Kind of like a tournament where the top fighter would technically be gifted his freedom. I say technically because I don’t believe anyone was ever actually set free. When I woke up the morning of the Great Fights, I felt nothing but excitement. 

I stood in my cell, watching the fight in front of me through iron bars as I waited my turn to enter the sand. I heard Felix enter behind me and I turned to him with a grin. 

“Today’s the day.” he said and I nodded. His shoulder bumped into mine and my breath caught in my throat. “Everyone is ready, the moment you reach the center of that arena, all hell breaks loose.” His hand slipped into mine and we just stood there, waiting in silence. I heard the gong sound and the bars lifted. I took a deep breath, my hand running in a soothing motion across the pommel of my sword. I stepped into the hot arena and there was nothing around me, no opponent. Then all hell broke loose. Felix was dragged behind me and dumped on the sand along with a couple other fighters, including Marcus. 

“What’s going on?” I hissed. 

“They’ve found out.” He said. 

“Now!” A great booming voice reached out over the arena. “Before you are several fighters who attempted to rise against our great nation! I will have you remember that we picked these weaklings up from nothing! We gave them everything! They betrayed us.” Booing echoed from the crowd and more anger boiled in my stomach. I was their favorite person just two days ago, and now they would be chanting for my death. “Today! We show them the great power of Rome!” The man shouted and Felix’s eyes met mine. They conveyed everything he’d never said, and I mouthed an apology. Another cell was raised from across the Coliseum and a group of snarling wolves were released. I’d seen this happen before, there was no surviving it. Felix lined up against my back, his sword raised, and I felt a strange amount of comfort as I watched my death approach. 

So. There it is. Perhaps one day I'll have the energy to tell you all the little stories that led up to this moment. The friends I made and the friends I lost. I could speak to you about my icy home and how my father had raised me to fight since the day I was born. I want to, one day, share exactly how deep this plot to destroy Rome went, there were so many interlocking pieces, and it was truly wonderful to be a part of that movement. I wish I could tell you about the conversations I had with Felix that week, when I realized he meant much more to me than I thought was possible. But that’s the day my body left this world, although my soul remains trapped here. As far as I am aware, I'm the only one who stayed behind. I watched our bodies be dragged out to rest under that dreaded statue and later that night I watched as they burned, soldiers laughing about our attempt to fight Rome.  

I watched Rome truly fall in the next year or so and I realized our story will never be told. We were pawns that were crushed easily, and I fear only the stories of success make history. But ours was important all the same. I don’t regret what I did, for the first time I fought for something worthwhile instead of simply following orders. I’d like to believe that Felix believed the same, but he had other things to live for, I did not. So now I linger in this world unsure if it’s because my Gods abandoned me when I fought under the orders of Romans, or because I was cursed by Roman Gods for attempting to hurt their people. It remains a mystery, one I may search for until this world comes to a close. The term now I believe is a Ghost, I am the remains of a warrior long since passed, one whose name is lost forever.