How the fuck did he get here…?

Hibashira gritted his teeth against the cacophony of sound that assaulted his ears. Screams? Cheers… The scent of blood, sweat, sand, and metal filled his nose. The demon squinted at the bright light up ahead, his eyes adjusting from the dark room from which he’d just been unceremoniously plucked. A dark room, a cell, that he had not been in during his last moments of consciousness.

Something sharp jabbed him in his back, ushering him forward. He felt the heavy metal of shackles around his neck, wrists, and ankles. A prison? No, worse: Hibashira blinked as he crossed the threshold into the sandy pit. The growl that rumbled in his throat went unheard over the deafening screams of the crowd.

An arena…

As he stepped into the arena, he could hear the crowd screaming in a language he could not understand. Words that had no meaning to him, yet intrinsically he knew what they must be saying. Two guards that had brought him from his cell to the battle grounds quickly undid the chains attached to his shackles. They were efficient, back behind the safety of a barred metal door before he could turn to see them.

The last thing he could remember was leaving a tavern. The ale they had, imported from a nearby dwarven mining town, had been particularly strong: enough to give him a buzz. He’d been quite content having won some coin in a game of cards before leaving to continue his travels. He never liked to stay in one spot for too long, given what he was… Most folk weren’t fond of demons, especially ones that could blend in as well as he could.

He remembered leaving the tavern… then waking up in the cell, bound to the wall by chains that he couldn’t melt or break. Wherever he was, whatever had happened: it had been planned. Hibashira glanced towards the shackles on his wrists; they had been inscribed with runes. Old magic that would make removing the shackles impossible without the key. He’d been bound in such once before. That situation had not ended well for his captures.

Hibashira drank in the boisterous crowd with his fiery eyes. A voice spoke over the screams, amplified by magic. The demon didn’t need to understand the words to understand what was happening. He had let his guard down and had been captured, taken to an unknown location, and would be forced to fight for entertainment. Hibashira ran a hand through his shaggy black hair and sighed. There didn’t seem to be any choice. A large gate across the arena began to lift. The arena floor rumbled and the sand shook around his bare feet. The fight was immanent.

The demon shifted his stance and flexed his fingers. A small flame flickered in his palm and the runes on his shackles emitted a soft glow. His fire was being limited.

“Of course…” Hibashira snorted before he reached down for his swords. His fingers brushed empty air where the hilts of his blades normally sat. He looked himself over and spat a curse. He really couldn’t be surprised. Of course they’d stripped him of his belongings. He would have done the same.

With only his dark brown breeches and a white shirt, Hibashira lifted his hands, prepared to fight. Ten individuals marched forth from the open gate across the area, all clad in armor and brandishing weapons. The magnified voice, an announcer Hibashira assumed, called out an unfamiliar word and the gladiators began to run towards him.

“Here we go…” The demon stood his ground, one foot slightly ahead of the other, stance wide, knees bent, and hands raised. The first gladiator to reach him swung down hard with a broadsword. Swiftly, Hibashira slid his right foot back and pivoted, avoiding the blow. In one smooth motion, the demon slammed his left fist into the back of the first gladiator’s helmet. The metal of the helmet split from the force and flew from the man’s head as he stumbled forward to fall flat on the sand.

Hibashira used his momentum to swing out his right leg, catching another gladiator across the jaw. The gladiator’s head cracked to the side as he too fell within the sand. Hibashira ended in a crouch, eyes looking from one remaining fighter to the next as they edged forward, surrounding him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Hibashira called to them. Whether or not they understood, the remaining eight fighters seemed to have no intention of backing down.

One of the gladiators began to raise his spear. Hibashira moved like a wildfire spreading through a dry underbrush. Within moments the remaining fighters were unmoving on the ground. He had done his best to keep them alive, albeit incapacitated. The crowd began to elicit sounds of displeasure: of course they wouldn’t be pleased by him winning. He hadn’t been meant to win here. Hibashira frowned as he scanned the audience once more, his fiery amber eyes finally landing on someone who looked to be of importance. A gasp was all it took for him to scale the arena walls and land before the surprised nobility. Even with his fire dampened, Hibashira was still formidable. This wasn’t the first time he’d been put in chains like these.

He ignored the weapons that were jutted towards his face by the guards. One hand was already on the robes of the rich looking bastard in front of him. Hibashira pointed to the shackle on his neck and made an unlocking motion with his hand.

“Remove these and you’ll get to live. Otherwise, I’ll burn this whole place down… starting with you.” The demon snapped the fingers of his free hand, calling forth a small flame.

The king may not have understood the demon’s words but the intent was perfectly clear… In the end, the demon shed the shackles regained his belongings. It was dangerous to play with fire.