Final Words From A Retired Gladiator
As a both a student and participant of war, I can say now that the path I chose was worth every sacrifice. But the world I live in is not perfect, and neither am I. Despite my inevitable imperfections as both a warrior and a student, I have found pride in myself as a teacher of an ancient ideology known as martialism. This is my final testament that I leave to Aden, and the last remnant of wisdom I have for future students of the only noble weapon left in this world.
There is a certain importance and genuine significance that can be derived from the use of edged weapons. It is an uncommon art that has spawned a multitude of ideologies and ways of fighting. From knives to daggers, to fist mounted armaments, recreations of the original idea are on all spectrums of the mentality that once existed; for in the beginning, there was only one. That weapon was the sword. A simplistic idea that evolved into a complex ideology—as from seed to tree—it was the singularity that lives were sworn by. But what must be understood by the hopefuls reading this, is that the path of the Gladiator is much more far reaching and comprehensive than that of a simple swordsman. When I first started training at the Einhasad Temple in the art, I was eager to become like my predecessors, master’s of the blades who were conditioned enough to wield two of the weapons with both elegance and almost a zen-like focus. My mentor’s stressed to me though that, if I was to become a master and practitioner of two swords, I must first become a master of one. The appreciation of what I was learning was something that needed to be learned, if I was able to wield two of the weapon.
So for 8 years I trained to attain that right. And when I finally did, my mentor revealed something to me that I had overlooked up until I had left the order. A simple piece of wisdom that was profound in its effect on me. He told me that being a Gladiator was not about the physical art of dual swords at all, it was the learned discipline and focus that truly guided your strength. It was not about the elegance, and it wasn’t about the power; it was about the mind and soul. I didn’t see it at first when I was young because of my rashness, but when I came to the mountains for solitude I saw what he had meant. He told me that if I could remove the swords—not physically but spiritually—if I could remove the weapon, and still retain the lethality. If I could treat the blades as 1st nature and not 2nd nature; if I could remove the separation of both body and mind; if I could realize that the true weapon was not the blades, BUT ME, then he said: Then you will have become something more than just a swordsmen and just a Gladiator. You become not a practitioner of swords, but a martialist. A practitioner of a weapon that was personal and infected with a mixture of both life and death. Many fighters ask how is it that Gladiator’s are able to focus there power into such powerful outbursts of strength? How is it that they are able to launch centralized focuses of energy from the blades of their weapon? How is it that they are able to find the will within to devote themselves to an almost archaic form of fighting? The answer to these questions cannot be answered by most, but eventually if you heed what I say now, you will find that answer and see how encompassing it truly is. The path of the Gladiator is long and difficult; it is not a path of glory or power, but of remembrance and significance. Devote yourself to the weapon, remove it with your mind, and what you will be left with it is something more brilliant and deadly than any forge could create.
Kain . Duelist of Aden