thanks Ryougabot!
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"Victory"


When Utgar held a gladiatorial contest to determine who his chief warrior would be....

One of those entrys was Roma. He was a Kyrie, his wings folded up around him keeped him warm as he waited in the wings, the cold from the ice mountan came down.

"Cold." Someone said.

He sighed, "Yes," He sharpened his ax agenst the stone.

"Are you up soon?" The person said.

"Soon." He agree, looking at the warror now, "I might have to kill you."

"Yes, I look foward to it," He smiled, sharpining his sword on the stone.

"I do not. After all, you are my brother." Roma looked into the arena.

"Do not hestate to strike if you face me, I shall not."

Roma looked at him again, "If I face you, I will drop my ax."

"Then you will die."

Roma sighed, "It is time." He went out to face the first oppenent, an hour went by, then two, then three. Finaly, worn, Roma returned.

"You won."

"Yes." Roma said, tired beound words.

"They call us to fight now."

Roma let a tear fall, as they marched out and the horn blew. He droped his ax to the ground, his brother flew in towards him, his sword extended, "I love you Ta-" The sword sliced his head off clean.

The red Kyrie warror looked down, upon his victory, "You could have won." He flew to the side line to wait his turn again.

"Eighty-One warrors to go." He mumered to himself, looking at his sword.

He looked out in time to see the clean up of his brother.

"Goodbye."