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Marcus didn’t even want to be at the arena that day. His uncle had dragged him there, hoping that it would cheer him up, but Marcus had no interest in the cheap jokes and half-decent fights. He wished he was still at the garrison, fighting side by side with his man, instead of wasting away in his uncle’s estate. The world seemed grey and dull, and not only because he hadn’t met his soulmate yet. Most men had already found their soulmate when they hit his age, but not him. It seemed fitting, that the son of the man who lost the Eagle and destroyed their family’s good name and honor, would be also without a mate. Just another cruel twist of faith. His attention snapped back to the arena once the gladiator fight was announced. That should be at least a bit exciting. The first gladiator seemed promising, but to his disappointment, his opponent turned out to be a slave. A Briton, a rather handsome young man, but no matter his youth he didn’t stand a chance against the gladiator. The man seemed to know this, and accepted his fate, throwing away his weapons, staring fearlessly in the face of death. It surprised Marcus, the quiet defiance, the way he got up again and again, after being knocked down, and no matter how hurt he got or how loud the crowd yelled, he didn’t fight back. He just wants to die, Marcus realized. A clean death, something he had found himself longing for the last couple of weeks. It didn’t take long for the gladiator to become fed up with knocking the man around, and he stood over him with his sword to his chest, looking at the crowd. They demanded death and blood. Marcus didn’t know exactly why he stood up, or what he felt at that moment. Maybe pity, or admiration, or maybe just the unfairness of the whole situation angered him. All he knew was that he couldn’t let the young man die. He held his thumb up and yelled:“Life! Life!”This seemed to draw the slave’s attention, as he looked straight at Marcus. Their eyes met, and for one long moment, the only thing that mattered were those blue eyes. Blue, his mind supplied. Marcus looked around frantically. Red blood, yellow sand, the blue sky. The world was filled with colors. This man was his soulmate. Now he was even more desperate to save his life. He couldn’t let him die, not when he just found him. So he yelled at the crowd, urging them to demand life, until finally, the voices yelling life overwhelmed those demanding death. Marcus almost collapsed in his chair, his bad leg giving out. But he did it, his soulmate was safe. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Esca had given up long before entering the arena. These last few years he had spent getting beaten, raped, and used. He didn’t wish to live anymore, not as a slave. And he certainly wasn’t going to fight for the amusement of the Roman crowd. He hoped for a quick death, but of course, that was too much to expect. Finally, the gladiator had his sword against Esca’s chest, ready to deal the final blow. Only a few more minutes and this would all end. His only regret was never meeting his soulmate, never seeing how beautiful the colors were. Suddenly he heard a voice, different from all the others, begging for Esca’s life. He turned his head to get a good look at the man who was denying him his death, and then there were colors everywhere, and those green eyes were staring at him. Esca had a reason to live again.