27th June 722 BNM

Late Morning

Chamitaly, Romane Imperial Homeland

Romane metropolis

Circus Maximus racetrack

Pawing at the ground, Mashri flicked a few strands of mane from her face with her quick neck flick, while her battle partners from the Venata milled around, also mingling with other soldiers during the training.

The Circus was not in use today, allocated for military training, be it for horse/fast runners to improve stamina, or for those who could hold tools [dogs, Chamois] to practice their chariot racing or sword skills.

As one of the younger Venata galloped down the raceway's centre wall, the spear mounted on her shoulder armor sliced cleanly through the large dog torso hung on a pole, used as target practice. No thought was given to the dog's identity in life, as it was only prisoners condemned to death that became practice dummies for the Imperial armies.

"Good, you pierced the hide at an angle, stab and slice at the same time, keep the momentum up and do the others!"

As the female Saddle Arabian horse galloped on around to make another pass, Mashri strode across the Circus track's sands, her gaze cast across the grandstands where mostly military family or the odd civilian watched idly.

As she strode past a group of male Chamois, also using the Circus, she heard one of them call out:

"Mashri, Mashri!"

With a slight pause, the brown maned and brown bodied horse turned, her armor rustling and clanking slightly as she sternly asked the Chamois soldier:

"Yes Immunes Cammadus, speak quickly!"

She ensured to emphasize Cammadus's rank, given she was a Centurion, two ranks above the Chamois. But she knew Cammadus as a friend enough to let it slide from time to time.

Gesturing to the Chamois soldier beside him, Cammadus asked outright in a friendly tone: "This Avocati here asked me if its true, the story of you defeating an entire barbarian horde with one strike along the Haygyptian river banks?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mashri asked incredulously: "Where on Earth did you hear about that?"

The Avocati Chamois shrugged, remarking lowly: "Rumors and legends abound about many of the army's accomplished members."

As Mashri finished, Cammadus noticed a trio of Chamois Elite soldiers marching through a nearby tunnel, clad in armour of the Senate guard.

"Look young one, all that happened was they were making a fuss, and their leader came to bargain for a deal to split the local land with the Empire. We met at a river bank, where his boat came up to meet us. I met him on the boat myself, their Minotaur leader."

"What happened then?"

"It was a trap, predictably. He attacked me, we fought hard, but in the end I stabbed his throat as he gloated on and on during his sword swings, threw him off the boat, and into the river, where the crocodiles nearby came rushing in. One kill, and the army he had didn't retaliate, shocked that their so called, immortal Minotaur leader, had been taken down by Mare."

Blinking slightly, the Avocati was about to reply, before one of the approaching Senate Chamois guards surged past, roughly brushing him and Immunes Cammadus aside roughly.

"Centurion Mashri Hurenus, you are under arrest for treason."

Stunned, Mashri demanded angrily, knowing that 3 Senate guards being here meant this wasn't a joke:

"What for?"

"That is for the General to inform you." The lead Senate Guard signalled as he spoke, and the other 2 Chamois guards surged around and had her fore and rear ankles ties with short rope to stop her from moving faster than walking speed, and as the muzzle bag was forced over her face, Mashri struggled angrily. Her comrades who had been training looked on in shock.

Emperor Iulian's Palace

Military chamber halls

General Habbinus's offices

The Circus arena was not very far from the royal palace, also where the military headquarters were based.

As Mashri saw where she was, the rising marble , having been further blinded by a sack over her head, she blinked as she saw her commanding officer staring at her with a look of venomous contempt, yet also some doubt.

General Habbinus, a battle scarred elder Chamois male, turned in his more robed, less armoured clothing, the deer/goat like, large male gesturing to the guards to force her into a kneeling position.

As she was forced down by the 2 Chamois guards around her, she saw General Habbinus reading some scrolls on his desk, remarking with some rather disdainful remarks:

"Such a reputation, Centurion Mashri Hurenus. Taken in by a Centurion at a very young age when your village was raided during our eastern expansions, rose through the ranks to where you are now, particularly effective in leading a mostly Iudian Saddle Arabian horse unit in the local areas, securing contested spots. A very impressive career for a Mare, and for one of Barbarian parentage."

As he finished, General Habbinus then asked her bluntly: "And yet, with the message received, I have been informed that the fortress of Hiresolmya, in Iudian territory, has been ransacked by a pack of barbarians that knew of its ins and outs, as if informed by a member of the local garrison. They were led by a tribe from the Arabia wildlands to the south east of there, who bore this insignia. Do you recognise it?"

He held up a sketch scroll, showing an insignia of a 4 pronged star, with a circular background behind it. Blinking, Mashri nodded, while General Habbinus finished with some damning remarks:

"According to these confessions, taken from those captured when the backup garrison re-secured the fortress, 3 months ago you ordered the release of a specific prisoner, a Saddle Arabian horse male, by the name of Kalmai. By their confessions, his later escape, no more than 2 days after your departure back here to the metropole, was possible because of inside information. Do you deny it?"

Mashri knew the evidence was damning, and unfortunately, true. She nodded her head, shame covering her hung face as General Habbinus asked somewhat less sternly:

"You are a respected soldier, especially given your sex and race for your rise through the ranks. But why would you betray your fellow soldiers there for one prisoner, why would you let him escape, when he came back leading an assault on the very fortress key to our imperial influence in the provinces there?"

Pausing, and as she saw General Habbinus was waiting for her to speak, Mashri gave a gulp, her brown furred body trembling as she simply remarked:

"I was interrogating prisoners. When I came to Kalmai, he recognised me by a notable fur patch on my flank… Kalmai, is my older brother."

Surprised, Habbinus let her finish, but he was no less stern than before:

"I never knew my family, I was left behind when the Empire came, panic ensued as they ran. I know the tribe I came from were raiders before and after my birth, but I talked, he talked, and I couldn't just sit by and let the only family I've ever found rot in a prison. I told him how to get out after failing to get him released, though I didn't mention he was my brother."

"Why not?"
"I feared my reputation if I was related to a barbarian.." Mashri admitted.

Staring hard, General Habbinus remarked on the decision, which on the scroll before him, had already been made:

"Military protocol must apply Mashri. Your act of family kindness allowed Kalmai to rally his barbarian horde against the fortress, storm it through points of weakness you revealed to him to aide his escape, and cause the deaths of dozens to a hundred deaths in the base before reinforcements drove them back. That is treason, intentional or not notwithstanding."

Gulping slightly, Mashri was silent as General Habbinus strode around his desk, the Chamois murmuring lowly as he stated her new position in the empire:

"Your brother has been captured, along with a few other barbarians, and will be delivered here to the capital to pay for his ways, either with his life, or by entertaining the masses. You however, are not a barbarian.."

Mashri was hoisted up by the two Chamois guards, while General Habbinus lightly gripped her face in a hoof grip, remarking softly: "You are skilled, valuable. Romane values such assets. Despite your treachery, you have a chance to retain your honor in the end of this."

Eyes widening, Mashri breathed somewhat out of turn: "How?"

"You will have plenty of time to muse on what the choice you will have to make once the Colosseum trainers have possession of you. And as of now, until either redeemed by your choice, or killed, you are stripped of any and all rank, status and position in the Romane Empire. When the time comes, you will have a chance to regain all you have cost yourself."

"I made one mistake sir!" Mashri cried out, while a Chamois guard hit her in the ribs painfully to shut her up as General Habbinus replied:

"Romane doctrine dictates punishment is due here." Habbinus remarked, as he nodded to the two Chamois guards to escort the devastated, angry Saddle Arabian mare from his office in ankle bindings to stop her running, only walking.

As Mashri saw the office walls blur by due to her unfocused mind, she realised how far she had fallen in the span of 2 hours, all the way from Centurion to pretty much slave and prisoner.

She would be a Colosseum entertainment source, until a time when the mentioned 'choice' came up. She would have to survive until then, whatever was thrown at her.

She'd already fought out of choice, re-enacting battles in the Colusseum for the masses that had come to celebrate her as one of many war heroes of Romane.

Next time she entered the massive arena, she doubted they'd be cheering, and she would be there by force.

She was now at the bottom of the Empire, her lowest point.

As the office walls blurred by, her mind raced. Romane's Empire firstly, because she served it loyally and many of its aspects and people had aided her in life.

But Kalmai had been family, and she had to help him. And he'd clearly used her knowledge with what he believed in via launching an attack, even waiting until after she had left the garrison base to do it.

But she had asked him not to attack that fortress.

And yet the Romane Empire was turning her into a slave basically.

Everything was a blur until she felt the cold hard stone floor of the Colusseum slave quarters rush up to snap her from her daze.

Grubby paws and hooves of other females, the quarters being gendered, meant she was now basically grouped in with prisoners, traitors and slaves sold out to the Gladiator trainers by less well off citizens.

Her one act of either loyalty or disloyalty, depending on perspective, that she could do to the family she never knew had begun a chain of treachery and loss on all sides.

She honestly didn't know if she'd done the right thing, or whether she'd been betrayed before or after Kalmai did, and whether he had betrayed her by doing what was his family's work before against the Empire she was a part of.

Sleep came quick that night as she grew tired from her inner turmoil and questions.

30th June 722 BNM

Late Morning

Chamitaly, Romane Imperial Homeland

Romane metropolis

Colosseum, basement levels

A faint roar of a creature from one of the animal holds echoed in the resting quarters, as Mashri ruffled some dust from her mane after yet another gruelling morning of Gladiator practice.

Before, she'd only ever fought to kill prisoners in the arena when she ever took part here. But as a Gladiator, she was to be on the defensive. She was the one who had to fight harder, especially if she wished to live long enough to see Kalmai when he arrived here, with the others, who betrayed her trust.

She had to know their reasons, otherwise she was at a crossroads of her true loyalties.

Talk had spread, but being away in here meant she was more sheltered. The whispers about her were of treachery, foolishness, and other less savoury remarks from the Romane citizens that once idolised her as a war hero.

At this point, she didn't care about any of that. She had been rising up, and now as of 3 days ago, was down at the bottom most level of society.

Her gladius shoulder armor, with a gladius sword secured in a way for her shoulder to wield it and a shield on the other side, lay nearby as she finished scrubbing the dust from her mane.

This was her life now, until the one who she trusted was brought to the capital. What happened to him was to be determined, and all she had to go on was that it was in her best interest to survive until then.

As bitter as it made her feel, she knew this was punishment fit for traitors of the Empire, and accepted that. But she had a suspicion of why her recent brother was being brought to the capital. To be made examples of, just as she was.

2 hours later

Colosseum, basement levels

Low rank Gladiator quarters

Pulling open the bars of her cell door, her trainer, a grizzled, scarred Chamois male, gestured to follow him, muttering bluntly:

"You've got some visitors."

With a groan, Mashri rose to her hooves, remarking: "More citizens to gaggle at me through the bars…"

"No, in private. They paid well to get in here."

No more words were spoken, until the door was opened to the eating quarters, the trainer Chamois remarking: "Remember, they pay well, so don't try anything."

He regarded her with contempt, and doubt, just as he did all 'fresh' gladiators who had yet to see one proper match in the Colosseum. Even though Gladiators were not usually killed by each other, they stood a good chance of dying by the hands of the animals, more violent prisoners, or if they don't put on a fight good enough in their loss.

Gladiators were performers, and even in defeat, a well performed battle could save their life. So non-lethal combat was key to training. Mashri knew proper combat, and already had an edge. But that didn't stop the trainer's usual contempt for punishment sentenced gladiators. He felt it demeaned the sport to have rejects of society in it.

And he let her know it.

Leaving Mashri behind, the trainer was gone through the halls and out of sight.

Turning to face the two strangers in the room, both sat at the table before her with a spread of fruits and some bread and wine, the brown Saddle Arabian mare scowled in confusion at the sight.

Two robed unicorns, one grey robed with black fur, the other blue robed with grey fur. Both looked middle aged, yet their posture and eyes betrayed experience beyond that.

It was the grey, more bearded one that gestured to the seat in front of them:

"Please, take a seat. You must be hungry after training this morning."

Cautiously, Mashri sat at the table, but quickly snatched some fruit and bread off the platter before her to scarf it down, uncaring of manners.

Seeing the brown mare before them, Siral gave Starswirl an odd expression, as he telepathically remarked:

Recent events have certainly downsized her standing in the Empire.

Starswirl ignored Siral's blunt telepathic remark, as he asked, sensitively:

"It is an honor to meet you, Mashri Hurenus. I've heard many stories, even the recent ones."

"It's exaggerated, but true, most to all of it." She remarked, uncaring of these two strange Unicorns before her as she ravenously devoured another roll of bread.

With a slight sigh, Starswirl decided to get straight to the point: "When we saw you in the parade 4 days ago, you seemed to be a picture of loyalty to the Empire. And now you are down here, how might that have changed your view of everything?"

Putting down the bread, Mashri gave a slight glare at the Unicorn, while the black furred one gave an eyebrow upturn in an expectant expression. She spoke with some venom:

"I made a choice, I thought it was right at the time, and that is it."

"What choice?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Given the duration of fights ahead of you before your brother arrives from Iudian territories with the other prisoners he led, my partner wishes to know these things in case you fall in the Colusseum." The other Unicorn, Siral, was far more callous in his approach, leading Mashri to rise from her chair, standing imposingly over the 2 Unicorns, noticing she was a good head higher than they were.

"How do you know that!?"

As the silence rang in the room, it was the other, Starswirl, that urged her calmly while shooting Siral a disapproving stare:

"Calm down, and we shall let you know."

"Make sense of your claims quickly." Mashri remarked bluntly, sitting down once again with an unceremonious thump at the table.

There was much to discuss, but in the case of the two wizards, not one word of them being time travellers, or of the Prophecy she was signalled to be a part of, a being of Loyalty, was mentioned to her.

But revealing that they were Wizards helped to explain how they acquired wealth to bribe guards to let them see her, and how they managed to convince others to divulge internal military events around her. Magic was a powerful asset.

And Mashri respected power enough to listen to their words.

Author's Notes:

Mashri made a choice, helping her brother escape as a gesture to her only recently known birth family, met for the first time. But its complicated.

Her brother wages and sneak attack with the knowledge he got from Mashri to escape an Imperial base, but he had the decency to wait until she was transferred out as she said to him before he escaped. Romane understandably convicts her of treason, giving her a chance to make up for it if she lasts long enough in gladiator matches, easier for a trained soldiers, but the fact that she is in the gladiators, at a low level, is an insult in itself.

Where do her loyalties lie now? Family she was abandoned by when the Empire came and recently encountered and was sort of betrayed by, Empire she grew up with for longer but is currently stonewalling her, or herself?