I thought I needed a champion.
In him, I found true love.

To free me of a curse, I needed a master warrior.
There's only one minotaur like that, one with one hundred victories in the Arena: Magus.

Beyond his rough exterior, I found a heart big enough to take pity on me.

He fought for me.
He bled for me.
And ultimately, killed for me.

But as powerful as this warrior is with his sword, I see that my minotaur needs me fighting by his side to be victorious.

Not for my sword arm.
Or my magic.

But for my love.

Chapter 1

Magus 

The summer sun beats high overhead. It must be close to noon, judging by the position. But I’m not ready to let this latest group of newbies out of the Arena just yet. They owe me a bit more practice first.

“C’mon,” I shout. “You’re too slow. Slow things die. Pick up the pace.”

I’ve been training the newbie gladiators here at the Arena for awhile now. This group feels especially frustrating, but I think that I feel that way about every group at the beginning.

Eventually, I break them down into something that I can work with. A lot of them still aren’t any good, but at least better. Then the next group of hapless idiots comes in, and I have to remember how to do it all over again.

Once upon a time, I never would have guessed that I’d end up a tutor, squandering my talents away here. I fought my hundred battles and won my hundred victories – and my freedom.

But that freedom came at an unexpected price. By the time I finally earned it, things had changed. I had changed. I had spent so long here in the Arena that I couldn’t imagine life outside of it.

I wanted to get out there, but now I don’t know that there’s anything for me out there anyway. It’s confusing and complicated out there in the free world.

Besides, the space is better saved for the few who deserve it. Those with something to offer. My only skill is here, in the Arena. I did, and now I teach.

So, I stay. And I piss my days away training a bunch of snot nosed punks, most of whom will end up being more useless than me.  But that’s the way it goes, I suppose.

Watching them, I shake my head. “No. All right, that’s it. 15 laps around the circumference, and pick up your knees,” I bark. “You’re going to learn precision if it kills you, and if you don’t, I’m gonna kill you.”

An unusual chill runs down my back, and I glance into the stands. There aren’t many gathered in the heat of the day like this, especially when the only activity is training. That’s not much of a show.

But the chill that I felt is explained when I see that I’m being watched by Prelate Jartigan. He’s a powerful senator, and while it’s a bit unusual to find him here, I pay it no mind. Hopefully, he’s just bored and will wander off soon.

I do observe that there’s another person with them. They’re sitting in the stands together, and the second figure is swaddled up tightly under a hood. They’re so concealed that I can’t identify them. But it’s likely just a human servant or someone unimportant.

I turn my attention back on my training, wiping the sweat from my brow. It’s getting hotter by the minute.

Finally, I call out, “That’s enough for now. Lunch break, peons. Go wash off the stench of failure before you come back.”

They scatter, and I grab my water bottle. I take a long drag from it, thinking that I might get a little exercise of my own once it cools down.

As I pull the bottle away from my face, I see that the senator is waiting to talk to me. So much for ignoring him and hoping he’d go away. The last thing I want is more work to do.

He waves me closer, and I approach the fence that separates the stands from the fighting Arena. “I need your assistance. It’s gravely urgent,” he begins, looking solemn.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the melodrama. He is a senator, after all.

“Something has come up that may threaten the entire Minotaur Kingdom,” he intones ominously. “Perhaps even the world.”

I laugh. “Okay, I get that you need to look like you’re doing something productive. It’s job security for a leader. But leave me out of your end of the world rabble rousing.”

I strut away, ready to go back to my exercise. I had planned to wait a little bit, but even working out in the heat beats listening to whatever this is.

“Stop!” a feminine voice shouts. I turn around almost reflexively, wanting to see who it is.

The swaddled figure from earlier is rushing down the stairs toward the Arena. In her hurry, the hood has fallen away from her face.

She’s a female human, and a rather attractive one at that. She has striking red hair that I find exciting and vivid green eyes.

Something coils in my chest, alerting me to the fact that I find her looks–and somehow it feels like something more–appealing. I’ve never found a human attractive before. If it wasn’t for the strange tightness in my chest, I wouldn’t believe it myself. I’m a bit smitten with her, despite not even knowing anything about her.

It’s peculiar, and I’ll have to think about it later. There must be some explanation. Maybe the heat does strange things to the brain.

She jumps the fence as though it’s no problem at all and comes to stand before me. I fully expect her to beg me to help, maybe even kneel. It’s no use, anyway. A woman’s tears don’t move me in the slightest.

But, to my surprise, she draws herself up as tall as she can and glares. It’s not particularly impressive, as I’m still at least two feet taller and a good 400 pounds or so heavier. It’s more the defiant spirit that catches my attention.

“Hey, hornhead,” she taunts me. “If you see Magus the Great, please let him know that I need to speak to him.”

“I am Magus the Great,” I reply.

“You can’t be,” she admonishes. “Magus isn’t a giant pussy afraid of a new adventure.”

I’m too shocked by her words to even formulate a response. Finally, I just turn my gaze to the Prelate. Who is this woman with the nerve to talk to me like this?

But the Prelate just laughs. What kind of upside-down world is this, today? I’m Magus the Great. I don’t get laughed at and called a pussy by other minotaurs. Certainly not by weak little human females.

I straighten my shoulders, and the Prelate interjects to introduce us formally. He says that her name is Elayne, and she is why they have come here today.

“On her neck, you see what appears to be a necklace. But this is no ordinary piece of jewelry. It’s an ancient artifact called the Onyx Shriek.”

“Okay,” I reply impatiently. I very much doubt that I care.

“The Onyx Shriek contains dangerous magic. It’s bonded to Elayne and cannot be removed. But we must break the curse and get it off her, or she will eventually die.”

“Huh.”

“And it’s not just Elayne who is in danger,” he continues. “The necklace can be used to awaken one of the Thirteen. And if they’re awoken in Protheka, who knows what harm could come to us all? If one of the Thirteen dark gods is brought forth, then they will be free to make our world into whatever they desire.”

“Not all of the Thirteen are so bad,” I point out. “I think you could take your chances. I bet some of them might be kind of fun.”

She stares at me, mouth agape. “Did you miss the part where he said the curse will kill me?” she demanded, stamping her foot a little. She’s a feisty one; I’ll give her that. If I had any heart at all, I might be impressed.

“Nope,” I reply.  “Look, lady, I’m sure you’re really nice or whatever. Got your whole life ahead of you, you’re too young to die, I get it.”

I bend over to pick up my water nearby, taking another long drink. “I hope you find a hero who can set all this right for you, but you’re gonna need to look elsewhere. It ain’t me; I can promise you that. I’m just a gladiator,” I explain.

An almost mischievous smile begins to spread slowly across her face. “But that’s just what we need."