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"I have lost count, how long have I been imprisoned within this hell hole. How many humans have I slain, how many souls have i reaped." Life was a never ending misery, These humans were rather smart. After all the water dragons were infamous for their brilliant minds. So to be captured by such a foolish species was embarrassing. Sadly, like most ancients his heart fell for one of this foolish mortals.

Their vile poison called love once ran through his veins, making him oblivious to their actions. If only he listened to the elders about her, then he wouldn't be suffering through this hell. How could the other elder be so foolish into believing in the nonsense, and even stand up to those filth. Emotions were foreign to kin, to dragons, and to hybrids. So why was it lethal to them? How could it make them so blind?

Rats scrambled amongst the floor of his cell. Roaming over the chains, creating a slight rumbling noise of metal hitting metal. Though a minor nuisance, it never truly bothered him. After a hundred years of being confined within this hellhole, one gets used to the sound. If they didn't rattle the chains, then he'd more than likely starve. How low has he sunk, to eat the vermin to stay nourished. Oh how the elders warned him of the human treachery.

No human tongue could speak, nor would speak his true name. Within the arena he was known as Vector, but once upon a time he went by a different name; Nilakanta. "Nilakanta... Nilakanta" He whispered silently to himself, after all if his name were to go unspoken forever then how would he ever remember it? The ocean itself seemed like a strange mistress to him now. A water dragon, forgetful of the vastness of the ocean. All because he was outsmarted by a dim witted race and their silly ways.

Resting against the hard cobblestone wall, Vector's head slumped. Everyday it was the same routine. The arena would build up a new "Champion" to challenge him, then he was to murder them within the ring. A never ending cycle of cruelty. The humans still cheered, such vile creatures. Wishing death and harm upon another; even one of their own kind. Sometimes he felt sorry for those poor pit dogs sent to the slaughter.

Soon his cell went silent. The rats went to their holes, and the cries of the broken played throughout his cell's walls. The tune of the misfortune. At least their pain would be short, his, however, would last till old age would take him. Sighing softly, vector began to rub his forearms. Feeling the cold iron shackles that "Held" him still. The chains themselves weighed over fifty pounds, the shackles were made of thick iron. Blackened by the forge master who was rushed by the king in order to hold Vector longer. Sadly there were no magical bindings, unlike the chains of old. Back then the thinnest of chains could hold him still, now they relied on cold steel over the magical studies of old.

Within the depths of thought a familiar, yet foreign, scent made it's way towards his nostrils. A small he was far too familiar with. Growling loudly, his body lunged forward. "Natasha!" He yelled angrily, his body jerked harder. The restraints did their best to hold him back. The shackle around his neck began to tighten as he kept pushing forward. Rage had engulfed his senses, all he wanted was her death. The vile betrayer who had a hand in his capture; his first love.

Frustration took over, as a child's screams filled the air, yet he cared not. He gripped the chain that held the neck's shackle. With all his strength he pulled forward, snapping it from the wall itself. Anger, frustration, and hate filled his being. One by one his restraints were torn away, till all that remained were the hefty shackles. Rushing towards the door Vector slammed his body up against it. The thick oaken planks began to crack. Wooden chips pattered onto the floor as he continued his onslaught. Again and again he slammed against it, till it too gave way. Hunching on all fours, he charged through the halls. Knocking over guards, with sheer force. Like a mad dog, he slammed into the room where the scent was the strongest.

Four more foul stenches reeked. Sweat, tears, and something else. The screams for help still continued, as the sound of panicking men began to stumble about. Wind carried well with Vector, as he pounced the first one. Sinking his teeth deep into the man's jugular; feeling his mouth with fresh meat. He pulled his head back, slowly ripping it away. The man struggled, but soon fell to him. It was the first taste of meat he had in weeks. Blood dripped from his chin as he went for another bite.

Horrified by the scene, the man's thugs quickly armed themselves to fend themselves from the bloodthirsty abomination. "Kill it, kill it now!" One yelled as he charged vector. Closing his eyes, the man thrusts his spear down hoping to stab the vile beast before it could move.

Quickly he rolled out of the way, allowing the spear to sink into the dying man's stomach. Without a second to waste, Vector jumped in the air and dropped kicked the man's chest. Falling on his back, Vector pushed up with his forearms and landed back on his feet. Dashing forward, he caught the stunned man's throat and began to squeeze. As the man squirmed, Vector leaned his head forward and gently sniffed the man. Fear, riddled the man's soul yet it had another odd scent along with it. It was vile, like a rotten corpse left out in the rain. Snarling, the pressure built up before a loud snap was heard and the man went limp.

The others took their chance and fled the scene, screaming that the sub human was out. Yet Vector cared little. Turning his head towards the familiar scent, he began to give a low growl. "One hundred years... one hundred years in hell, and yet here you are. I-I don't know how, but vengeance will be mine." His once white teeth were now crimson as blood continued to trickle down his chin. Pelting the cold cobblestone floor.

Tears ran down cascaded from her cheeks. What was this demon even thinking? Was it not enough that these people, these foul men held her down and tried to... Shaking her head violently, she attempted to back away from the beast. "G-Get away!" She screamed, praying to any god that would relieve her from this madness. "I, I've done nothing! Please, please, please don't hurt me!"

Snarling loudly, Vector grabbed the girls ankle. Receiving several kicks to the head in the process. He pulled the girl closer. Grabbing her by the neck as he leaned closer. Her scent was odd. Her blood was the same as Natasha's, yet it was different. There were other scents, foreign to even him. Yet still two caught him off guard. "How..." Reason began to come to his mind. His grip lightened, as he leaned closer and sniffed again. "Me? C-Child... how old are you..."

"Four....fourteen..." Gasping for breath, placed her hands on her chest. Her body shook violently under the crazed man.

"Y-you... you have her blood, my blood... more... Just w-who are you child." Vector asked, a wave of calmness rushed over him like water.

"A-A slave... I-I-I was... was recently sold here... please don't kill me!" She begged, hoping that if she answered his questions she'd be spared. That or at least given a quick death, unlike the others. "My father sold me to the arena, to pay off some debts... I-I..." Tears began to build up, yet she was met with a gentle hand caressing her face.

"C-Come..." he said softly, as he helped her up. The poor thing was shaking so violently. A great sadness found its way into his ancient heart. How could of he lost control and give into the blood lust. No amount of torture, lack of food, and water has ever driven him this far off the cliff. Yet he was ready to kill an innocent, an innocent that strongly carried his blood.

Slowly they made their way back to his cell. He heard the whistles of the prisoners, and the hustling of approaching footsteps. "Halt!" They called out. Though Vector cared little. Instead he kept moving forward. "Bring some clothes to my cell, some food, and a blanket. The door needs fixed, now go before I waltz up to the castle and strangle the royal family." So he left the guards in a standstill. If word got out that Vector was loose, hell would break loose. The king and queen would surely have their heads on a silver platter. "Best hurry before I lose my patience, by the smell of it... I say they're not far off."

The sound of armor clanking, and panicked footsteps told vector they were gone. "My cell is cold... you'll need the extra layers if you wish to not get ill. And I believe you humans can't digest rats properly... so that would be out of the question... well at least some of you is human."

Entering the strange beasts cell did she notice how they attempt to keep him chained. Broken shackles, iron bonds, and much more littered the room. It looked as if they placed him in a torture chamber. The air reeked of something vile, and was dimly lit. How could they keep someone here under such conditions. Taking a second look at the stranger did she notice how thin he was. It looked as if he hadn't eaten in years. His ribs stuck to his skin as if it were a tight shirt. His arms, though bold, were still lanky. His hair was an utter mess, long, shaggy, and had no control. Old bandages covered the poor things eyes, arms, and legs. Most likely they haven't been changed in several decades.

"This is your new home... have fun while you can, in the morn hell will follow." Sighing softly, Vector went to his usual spot and laid up against the wall. There were no beds, no blankets, nothing but chains and dread in his domain. Though he wished differently, at least this time. But for now, he had a few things to meditate upon. One being the connection between this girl and him. For now, at least she was safe.

So they fought long into the night, not realizing that the guards came with new clothes and food for the girl. There was little attention paid to the mice that scurried about their newly, under, developed battlefield. The chains rattled with ferocity, clinking loudly as they moved over it. Though Vector could feel the raw potential extruding from her aura. Though he could not see it first hand, it was still amazing to be apart of such an expressing. All she needed was a slight push.

They fought long into the night, neither realizing the onlooking guards. Hesitant to enter, fearing to be thrown in the middle of the bout. Vector never eased up on her, the girl was bashed, beaten, and bruised. Yet she continued to go about it. Her dragon blood rain deep within her veins, the only thing it needed was to be finally awakened. Though she did lack experience. Half of their little match was mainly Vector using her as a punching bag. She did not know the simple basics of combat, maybe Daien was losing their touch on training regimes.

Finally she threw a punch, after being forced on the defensive for the entirety of the match. Time froze as a grin appeared on her face. It was going to connect, she was finally going to hit him. Yet before her knuckles could graze against the blind one's face. Vector caught her arm by the elbow and slung her across the room. Airborne, she flew for a few seconds before landing hard on the ground. Groaning loudly, she attempted to get back to her feet, but her body wasn't having it. Unlike the pit dog, she had no experience with fighting. She just recently became of age to serve in the military.

"Child you fight well... there is so much potential overflowing from your being. Maybe you have what it takes." Vector smiled as he shifted from a battle stance to a calm tower. The sound of whispers filled his prison cell, the guards must have arrived. "Well, I hope you boys enjoyed the show... though the arena master will be angered seeing how you didn't pay. Oh well, did you bring what I asked?"

"Y-yes Vector... but I believe the food is co-"

"No it'll be fine, I can smell it from here. Though she better eat it before the rats get a hold of it. Food is rare in my cell deary, real rare, so eat while you have the chance." Before long he retreated back to his original spot in the cell. Sitting next to the shackles which once held him prison, beside all the blood stains from failed escape attempts. Now he had the ability, the chance, yet he chose to stay here. Why? Even the guards seem puzzled. "Leave our presence, the girl needs to change anyway." He ordered the cowardly two. The sound of armor rattling, and the shambling of hurried feet could be heard by the doorway. Then there was silence.

She walked over to find her new "Clothes". They were bloodstained, but at least they smelled washed. More than likely the last person to wear this met a early end, or at least that's what the old timer would say. She studied the clothes for a bit, they weren't the worst thing in the world. Wool pants, hard, brown, leather boots and thigh guards. A raggedy old belt was even thrown into the mix, how generous. The shirt was a bland grey color with a slight tear near the neck. Next to it was another piece of armor. Standard leather, yet a steel plate was stitched in the center. It too was battle torn, covered in scratches or dents. It was sad to say the least. Though it looked as if it would fit. Could use a good readjustment, that was for sure.

Leaning against the wall was the poorest excuse of a shield. It looked as if they strapped leather to a small table top and attempted to pass it off as a shield. Lacerations covered the bloody thing, exposing the oak wood underneath. No longer round, a huge chunk of wood seemed to be missing from the blasted thing. The sword was no better either. Chipped, dulled, and the hilt appeared to be broken. Were they trying to kill her off so soon? Such tools of war were practically useless.

"By the sound of your huffs, I'm guessing you're attire doesn't meet you're standards?" Chuckling, his elbow found itself resting against his knee. "Ya get-"

"No, it's the weapons that bug me. The only thing they're good for now is swatting fly's or smashing the rats." She huffed.

Shaking his head, Vector raised his head, it seemed as if he was staring at the ceiling. "There is a thin, broken chain near the wall... find it and bring me it along with your equipment." Only a few minutes had passed before the chain was dropped onto his lap, along with the sword and tattered shield. "Good, you can follow simple directions... Now I'm gonna ask you to guide my hands, I can't truly see what I'm doing."

First he requested the chain. to her it was just a simple chain, but in reality it was so much more. It was enchanted, long long ago, by powerful sages with the sole purpose to restrain massive creatures. Though it weakened long ago, it's magic still ran within it's metallic fiber. All it needed was to be coaxed out. Lifting it close to his lips, he began to whisper into it. A strange enchantment that caused the chains to shake violently before going still.

"Magically attuned, it was meant to hold my people captive a long time ago. The powers the humans acquired to do this, I know not where they obtained. We water dragons are well versed in the ways of magic. We are the collectors of knowledge, though magic itself is an ever expanding thing... oh how many tomes the ancients had written, the vast knowledge we once held..." Sighing softly Vector held out his hand. "Sword..." The thought of the years of research burnt do the ground saddened him deeply. More than likely he was the last of his people, the last of the hybrids, of water dragons. All ruined by the pity war of the humans and kin.

With the hilt of the blade in hand, he began to run it against the walls. Sparks danced down around him. "Watch the metal, we don't want it too thin... the hilt is weak but we won't need it for long, as long as the grip is as solid as it feels." Sure enough the hilt snapped due to the sharpening, landing hard on the ground with a loud thud. Figuring as much, Vector continued allowing Elizabeth to be his eyes. With the blade sharpened, the living chain re-enchanted, all that was left was the shield.

"This part I cannot do... I need you to go and size two shackles for your forearm and bicep... Once you find one that somewhat fits, I need you to cut the leather on the shield in fine lines. It should be thick enough to hold the chain onto the shackle. before you ask, this will create more stability... you will have no shield, but something much more."

At least she had minor skills in sewing. Stripping the leather from the shield should be nothing, though the thought of shackling one of her arms to a chain didn't sound all too pleasing. It frightened her really, yet the blind one didn't seem like he'd hurt her. Maybe he did have the best of intentions. So off she was to find the right size of shackle. Most were broken, others not. The ones that could even come close were a ankle and wrist shackle. In his prime, her new roommate must have been quite the stallion. Hard to believe with one glance. "I think I have them... so what are you going to do with them?"

"Bind them to your arm of course... it won't hurt, though permanent sadly."

"PERMANENT?!" She yelled, when was he going to tell her that! It was one thing to use a magical whip like thing as a weapon, but for it to be apart of her? Was he joking, the serious tone about his face said otherwise. "What makes you think I'll agree to somet-"

"Freedom, this chain will one day grant you freedom. Yes it's bonded to you, but it will forever be apart of you, like a extra limb or a tail. Through concentration you can control it, and luckily you have dragon blood coursing through your veins." Sighing softly he held out his hand to her. Unknowing whether she trusted him or not. He couldn't blame her, treated like a slab of meat by the fight master, tortured by the sleazy guards, and then beaten by himself. Trust was like bow hunting at the dead of night, hard. "With this combination, and my training, I can safely assure your survival, that shield... that shield will kill you, your blade will fail on its own, and you will die. Please, trust me."

She didn't know what to think of it. In one hand this was a opportunity, the other it will forever tie her to this hell hole. The man did speak the truth, she wasn't the strongest of fighters, ill experienced at best. "You promise that this is the key to freedom?"

Nodding slowly, he held out his hand once more. "Don't think of it as a permanent stain... maybe when you look upon it you'll see better days, instead of the trials you will face." For the first time, in what seemed like forever, Vector smiled.

"I don't know what I'm thinking..." Sighing softly she gave in, and placed her arm into the man's hand. Their was no clinching, no force, nor jerking. The man was gentle. At first glance, one would imagine that to be impossible; but it wasn't. Sizing her arm first, the man took the larger of the two shackles and somewhat clamped it to her left bicep. Then he would lean close to it and whisper something strange. A language that was hard to understand. It mostly sounded like a hiss, or some other strange foriegn language.

Suddenly the shackle began to glow a bright yellow. Ink, black as the night sky, began to move throughout her bicep. Curving, twisting, and dancing before slowly, but surely, shrinking into place. Much like the symbol on her back, yet so much different. She wanted to say something, yet she was too enthralled by the method than anything. The man seemed to know what he was doing, as he repeated the same with the other. The loose iron binding that was somewhat loose, now fit into a permanent place. It no longer budged, nor could she fit her nail between the, no longer existing, gap between the skin and shackle. It was no a part of her.

"Looks like I haven't lost it entirely... more draining than what it used to be, alright dear, all I need you to do is fasten the chain onto the shackles with the leather strips... I'm no use in that department. Threading was never one of my stronger traits." Laying back onto the cobblestone floor, arms spread out, did he give a mighty yawn. To think, such petty, low level, magic could tire him out so easily.

"Let me eat first then I'll do the bindings."

"That's all fine and dandy, just make sure you get it done and go to bed. Goodnight."

After an hour of struggling, she finally found peace in sleep. Sadly that couldn't last. It felt as if the moment she closed her eyes she was rudely awaken. Guards called out into the room, not daring to enter. They kept calling her by name. Over and over, before finally she got up. "What is it?!" She yelled, eyes half closed and hair a mess.

"Ya got no choice, to earn yer keep ya gotta fight. Now get your things and let's go! If not we can hold yer me..." A sudden chill shot down the man's spine. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the beast. The man claimed to be a demon by the Daien people; Vector. "J-Just hurry up, the crowd's gettin' antsy!" He demanded while the attempt to seem strong slowly faded.

Quickly she turned to Vector, who was no longer asleep. Instead he was standing by the door. How could he move so fast? She didn't even notice him until now. The guard was turning pale. The color from his face ran out the door, yet the body stayed. "I'm ready... just let me grab my... sword?" Though the blasted thing was sharpened, it still had no hilt. That and the awkward curve of the blade was rather worrying.

Complaining never got anyone anywhere. Sighing softly, she lifted the sword; resting the blunted end against her shoulder. Whether or not she'd come back was now up to the gods. Though deep within her subconscious she was praying for victory. To see another day set. "Wish me luck."

"Luck is for the weak minded, just don't break a leg and stay on your toes." The tone in his voice wasn't playful. The arena was not a game, and luck had no place in her. It was a cold, harsh mistress that played in nobody's favor. Soon she too will see that.

"Well... thanks... I guess..." Out the door she went. It was hard to believe that her first night in hell was already over. How many more nights would she have to suffer? Vector kept promising freedom, yet he couldn't even secure it for himself. "So... whose my opponent?" Her question did not fall on deaf ears. The guard simply huffed, before looking back to her. The man was smirking. Insecurity washed over her like water. The man clearly knew, yet would only laugh. No matter how much the question was pushed, it was always the same result.

In the blink of an eye the man turned, grabbing a hold of Elizabeth's dark green hair. "Listen here girly, just because Vector took a shinin' to ya means jack s**t out of his cell. Now get out there and put on a show for the masses. The 'igher ups be watchin' and ya don't want ta disappoint em." He then dragged her to a large wooden door. It didn't take long for him to shove her in and lock the door.

Landing hard on her butt, she looked up. The door was shut tighter than a thief's safe. Behind her were large iron bars. Each bar had to be seven feet tall. The roar of the crowds could be heard from the other side. Their cheers rattled the very grown she laid on. Light flickered through the bars. The sun brightened the so called arena, showing it's full glory. Most of it was sand, with large stone pinnacles near the center. Around them were bloodstains, most likely from a previous fight.

On the opposite side was another set of bars. Most likely it held her opponent. Shivers shot down her spine like lightening. Her knees rattled like the cobra's tail. This was it, her first official fight. If what the guard said was true then the royal family would be attending.

"People of Daien! Today is a day of much rejoicing. For we now have a new combatant in our humble arena. Rumor has it that it's the granddaughter of our very own champion!" The roars of the crowds escalated. Cheering for the fresh meat. "We are here to see if she, like her grandfather, has the fighter's spirit that we've all come to love! So, without further interruptions, let the battle commence!" Smiling happily the man sat down in the throne like seat. Next to him was a young man, presumably the prince. To the young prince's right stood a woman, draped in the blackest of leather. The way she shadowed the family one could say she was their personal guard.

The sound of metal screeching and chains rattling filled the air as the iron bars dropped to the ground. It had begun. The crowd was roaring, her heart acted like a race horse. Thumping quick as sweat dripped down her cheek. Her arms shook, her body quaked. All alone, no where to run. Fear was quick to grasp her, yet she had no time to panic. Her combatant, a large man clad in armor, was charging her.

What could she do? The only experience she ever had in fighting was with vector, and that was basically him hitting her over and over. Now it was time for the real thing. She noticed that the man was dragging his axe across the ground as he ran. Straightening her left arm, the chain whip fell to the ground. Clinking silently into the air of the over powering cheers of the crowd.

The man threw his axe arm high into the air, the axe's blade went up. Diving out of the way, narrowly escaping it's metal grasp, she swung her chain. It wrapped tightly around the man's forearm. Clinching her hand against the chain itself she noticed the man gasping in pain. The chain, it was constricting. Smiling, she pulled back; sending the man toppling down to his knees.

Angered, the man grasped the chain and pulled it forward. Caught off guard, Elizabeth flew forward. Tumbling roughly through the arena's sand. Her combatant got back to his feet. Intimidation reeked from the man as he towered over her. Plucking her like a daisy, he tightened his hand against her neck. Squeezing the life out of her. Vision fading, air getting harder to come by, yet she had to do something.

Biting her lip, she drew back her sword and plunged the blade into the man's stomach. Startled, the man dropped her. Panic drew fear into the man, and she was quick to capitalize on it. Charging the wounded fighter, she mounted his back and wrapped the chain around his back. With all her might she pulled back. Sending the man on a rampage. He slammed against the pillars, trying to free himself from her. Though no matter what he did she not let go. Blood trickled down her brow, yet she merely tightened her grip. Harder and harder did she pull back until a loud snap was heard. The behemoth of a man fell. The crowd grew quiet.

Panting heavily she fell off the man's back. Back into the warmth of the sand. It felt nice against her battered body. It was a dirty victory, yet she still did it. The battle was won, and life could continue.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We have a victor!" He yelled, though he didn't seem too happy with the fight. The tone in his voice was a bit off. "To the victor goes the spoils, now go return to your room brave challenger!" turning his back to the crowd he leaned close to his sons ear. "I want you to take Joan and pay a little visit to the so called victor and teach her the way things are done." Grumbling, the king made his leave.

"Well you heard the man Joan, looks like you gotta pay her a bit of a visit. I, on the other hand, have things to do and people to see." Staring contently into the arena, Alistar examined the so called "Granddaughter of the Champion". Such a pitiful thing, stuck forever in the shadow of her relative. "Don't kill her... just... rough her up."