All sanity has fallen. People are getting inpatient and time is skim. Maybe itís time to give up and not look back. Or maybe not, we still have one chance to make things right with the Gladiators and maginites. A meeting for the conquerors is going to be taken place at the high progolian tower in then gladiatorís ship. This maybe the last chance to make peace with the Gladiators, beforeÖ before, we may not be alive to tell the rest.
All I have is my words and a guide next to me. My doubts are high and expectations low, I walk through the hall and look at the ripped fabric on the walls, decorated with thick blood and bones of the Gladiators victims. You could smell the iron in the air that would make you choke on your own spit. The disgusting Gladiators had no sense of morality or pain. Yet I still needed to make peace or else my whole village would be painted with the blood of our elders and young ones.
The Gladiatorís killed in a specific way. First they would ask you if you had anything to say, second they would bond you with metallic strings, third they would gauge your eyes out, fourth they would skin you, third they would cut your flesh for they were not human but something else, finally they would gather the blood and paint with it. The gruesome thoughts in my head prevented me from going through that chamber door. I made a poem to remind myself not to cower.
Humans are Humans but that isnít all
We are all strong but we all fall
We arenít immortal but might as well be
Because our will is stronger than anything else
No one can kill our spirit not even the strongest of foes
This poem reminded me about my mother and grandmother. They always repeated this line over and over; I didnít know what it meant back then but now it is very clear to me now. It means that I cannot fail this meeting; I need to save my People!