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13 lines
939 B
Plaintext
13 lines
939 B
Plaintext
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A helmet of the gladiator adorned with feathers.
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To zealous spectators, this helmet was the symbol of invincibility.
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The legendary gladiator had fought numerous battles. None had ever stood a chance of survival before his sword, be they human or monster.
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On each triumphant day, the champion gladiator would walk through the gate to a hero's welcome from the adoring crowd.
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Only in moments of victory could the slave have a taste of what it felt like to be a master. But the cost of this vain aspiration was for the faint glow of freedom to be shrouded by darkness.
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On the day of his triumph, the gladiator finally caught a glimpse of the world outside his cell. He was a step closer to freedom.
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But only when his helmet fell down on the arena floor did he and the spectators alike realize that it was all just a farce.
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The offering of his petty life made no difference. He would always be a worthless slave in the eyes of his master.
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