She stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by the roar of the crowd. She felt the sun beating down on her bare skin, the sweat dripping from her brow, the weight of the sword in her hand. She knew this could be her last day alive.
She felt a surge of fear in her chest. She wondered how she ended up here, in this hellish place. She remembered her life before, when she was a free woman, a daughter, protected and safe.
She hated this life, but she had no choice. She had to fight, or die. She had to kill, or be killed. She had no hope, no future, no escape.
She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.
She knew she had to face her fears, or they would consume her. She knew she had to find her courage, or she would lose her will. She knew she had to fight for her survival, or she would perish.
She was an independent woman; she would make her way without excuses. She would fight to win. She would earn respect and honour.