Following are two versions of the same opening chapter to the story of a gladiator-character by the name of Myra, otherwise known as 'The Hummingbird'

If you are familiar with "Dismantled"  and the story of Emindor, this tale is in the same setting, about 200 years later.

Version 01

Everything was quiet. The audience held their breath, expectant and tense. Two combatants on the Arena floor circled one another. Cautiously each surveyed their enemy, gaging the other's strength, speed, and weighing the chances of their different weapons. The sun beat down on them mercilessly and the reflected glare from the white, sandy floor made their eyes sting. At least, it was mostly white. A large, crimson red splotch interrupted the low and shifting hills of white. Blood spilled from the last warrior's victim, his very life poured out on the Arena sands.

One of the combatants, the larger of the two, made a sudden lunge, but he was swiftly dodged by his opponent and drew back. It hadn't been a real attack. Only a feint to test his enemy's speed and awareness. She stood, small and slender, dressed all in bright green with a ruby-colored scarf around her throat. The distinctive green helmet with it's bird-like shape and long, thin beak said, bolder than words, who this warrior was. It was the Hummingbird, and up until now undefeated in the ring. But her current enemy, the Panther, aimed to change that. With a growl he sprang forward, ducking his head down and curling his shoulders to land in a roll. The Hummingbird leapt swiftly to the side, just out of reach of the his curving claws.

He came to his feet, snarling. His intention had been to bowl her over, but she had predicted him and now, he was angry. The Hummingbird smiled grimly behind her helmet. She could use his anger. Again he sprang and, again she dodged, but this time the wrong way. For he twisted in mid-air, changing from a somersault to a half-side flip he came down on her with claws extended. The Hummingbird tried to cover her mistake but it was too late. He was on top of her, pinning her by her left arm to the Arena floor.

Version 02

A single blade of golden light cut through the surrounding darkness, illuminating the swirling dust-motes and small sliver of sandy floor. Gazing with fixed eyes Myra's mind wandered far away. Only a few years, but so long ago, her past life seemed like a child's dream. Often, now she wondered if it had not really been a dream, if this life she now lived was truly all she had ever known.

The air was heavy with the scents of spices, warm bread, sweat, hot sun and blood. Soon her gate would open and she would run out to the mad cheering of the crowds, to kill for their entertainment. But for now, everything was quiet, and still as death. Two combatants, out in the Arena, circled one another, careful, skilled, bloodthirsty, only time would tell who should emerge the victor. The last to live would be Myra's final opponent, then it would be her life to his.

But Myra did not care. If she died today it would be but a transition from this already living death. No length of time or height of glory could make her want to live this way. Living to end the lives of others, that was all it was about. And she was weary with it.

A sudden cry pierced the air. Shrill and trembling a man screamed in agony. Another followed, and another. Slowly the victim's screams faded until all became, once more, silent. Myra nodded as cheers erupted from the crowds, just outside. The man had died, and probably had his head severed and held aloft by the victor, but only after his prolonged slaying. Such was the way of it. Kill your enemy slowly, make their last moments filled with pain. This is what the people called entertainment.

Myra shuddered. Entertainment, and how she hated it. But she could not escape it, for she was a slave and had not control over her own life. She was like a cup of water, made to be poured out for the entertainment of the masses.

A fanfare sounded and the great iron bolts slid from the sockets on Myra's gate. Hardly waiting for the groaning doors to swinging open she darted forward, faster than an arrow, and was in the Arena before the herald could announce her.

Sprinting at full speed her blurred feet kicked up a line of dust behind her. She zipped, fast as an arrow across the Arena towards her enemy. The creature before her was a terrifying sight. Long and lithe with the body of a serpent two arms and two legs extended from the writhing trunk as yellow and scaley as the rest of the monster's body. He was enormous, more than twice the height and just the thickness of a man, he towered above the quickly approaching figure of Myra. His head was something cross between a man a horse and a snake with long curving fangs, black slanted eyes and twitching ears. He laughed at her, fancying her an insect to be crushed in his fist, or paralyzed by his fangs.

But Myra was no insect. This creature may have been fused with a serpent and maybe something else but she was fused with a hummingbird. Without the wings it would have been hard to tell had her helmet not been shaped like a hummingbird's and her arms decked with bright green feathers.

She smiled grimly as she neared the laughing monster. He would not laugh long, but perhaps she could make him die in his merriment. For Myra, alone of all the Fused who fought in the great Arena's would not kill slowly, crowds or no. She gave swift and instant death whenever possible and never gloated over a fallen enemy.

The gap was closed. Myra leapt high in the air, her amazing energy and strength propelling her to the top of the Snake-man's fallen victim, a creature like a Bear-man but with the legs of a panther. From her perch Myra again leapt, this time aiming for her opponent's throat. But she had underestimated his speed. Faster than a striking viper he ducked and curling around seized one of her legs mid-air, hurling her across the stadium.

She landed, not pleasantly but without breaking anything. Rolling for a few yards she came up on her feet, her large, bird-like eyes fixed on the Snake-man, her long feather-like green hair swaying freely behind her.