Muriel had been quite busy keeping up with the day to day life she was living. Keeping all the finances aligned weren't easy and making them too was always interesting. Yet, in her downtime she enjoyed spending it with the children of the mafia. They were not old enough yet to understand the 'Business' they did, but like most families they would be brought into it. The mafia is a family business after all.

Today was one of those days that she brought them all together and told them a story. Children always enjoyed stories and she would always have a new one for them.

“Once upon a time...”

She smiled as she began off with the phrase that everyone recognized.

“In a grand kingdom. There were men who were known to be called Gladiators. These men were strong fighters, prideful, and extremely skilled. Each had their own way of fighting and their own way of showing their victory. Many children would pretend to play fight and crown each other victorious. Yet, this story is about one gladiator in particular.”

Muriel looked off into the distance as if she was truly remembering the story like she was there to experience it.

“His name is Nero, a very fitting name which meant strong. Although by looking at him many would poke fun that he didn't look the part. At a young age he was scrawny, no meat on his bones, and hardly a fighter. He lived in a village that held no rulers name above their head. They lived a simple life, each family had their own profession and would trade with each other for what they needed. Growing up he learned about love, compassion, and honor. All of which were taken from him the day he returned from collecting herbs and berries.”

“His village had been ran over by the Romans, arrogant men who felt they had right to anything they touched. He watched as his family was slain before his eyes, unable to help them he fell to his knees in anguish. Burying his face in his palms he heard the hooves of a nearby rider stride up to him. This was going to be the end of him too, much like his family. Yet, to his dismay that was not his fate. The rider picked him up and threw him on the back of his horse. Many of the young boys and girls of the village were spared, but he did not know why.”

Her face showed concern, she changed her tone to go along with the story and the children started to lean in more, curious as to what was happening.

“Upon their arrival it wasn't long until he found out his destiny and why they were allowed to live. The girls were taken to become slaves to the noble houses and the boys, well they were going to be 'trained' to fight in what was a growing sport in the Roman kingdom. Nero knew he was going to stand no chance against anyone in the arena. He had no strength or heart to kill anyone.”

“The boys were allowed to practice for a week before their first appearance would be made in the arena, for most it would also be their last. Nero knew he had to figure something out so he began to study those fighting. You were not allowed to see the arena, but he had found a small hole in the wall that gave some sight. He began to realize that most men relied purely on their might, size, and weapons. They never really relied on anything else. This was way in. As a boy he was smart, he was able to hunt animals not by being strong, but by out smarting the creature.”

“And that is just what he did. He used his wits not is brawns to win the fights, but with each fight he slowly lost his humanity. With each kill he became more of a beast than a man. The small boy he once was turned into a warrior. His tiny frame slowly turned into a muscular hero. At least that is what they changed his name to whenever he fought. They shouted loudly whenever he entered the arena. Nero had became the crowds favorite, he never lost a fight and soon became renowned across Rome.”

Her posture straightened, as if she was proud, much like the crowd was of their Gladiator.

“One day when he was leaving the arena he saw a group of boys fighting, they were only play fighting, but the one had nicknamed himself Hero in honor of Nero. The boy reminded him much of himself and something inside his heart felt warmth. This was a feeling he hadn't felt in years. A feeling that he did not know since his village was destroyed.”

“While he was walking out the boys saw him and stood straight up. The one who called himself Hero smiled brightly, a sparkle in his eyes, and elbowed the other boy whispering to him, 'I want to be just like him.' Nero lowered his eyes away from the boys and felt sorrow. The boy knew nothing of what he had went through, what he had gave up, and what he had become. No boy should ever want to go through what he did. The loss of his family, killing his friends, and living in filth for most of his time as a fighter.”

The children's faces held sad expressions, like they were feeling sorry for this man they never met. Muriel smiled inside, she couldn't smile while telling the story as a smile in this part was very out of character.

“A few years passed and still no one could beat Nero. He was far too smart and always paid attention to each challengers technique. Once he learned it, he would strike the killing blow. That was until the next boy entered the ring. This boy was bright eyed and held a smile. Nero's heart fell to the floor as he realized it was the boy who said he wanted to be just like Hero. Had he volunteered like many were doing? They didn't understand what this was and wanted to be great like the gladiators. Nero began to watch the boy, but the boy did not swing instead he did what Nero was doing. They were both observing each other and continued to walk in a circle facing one another. This boy had paid attention to him, he had watched and learned why Nero was so successful. This boy reminded him of himself.”

Muriel stood up and then began to walk around the children sitting before her in a circle while she acted out the next part of the story.

“And because of this Nero began to strike, each dash towards the boy was slow. The boy looked confused, he knew this was not the style that Hero normally used. Finally, Nero struck him down and was over top of him. Between his teeth he seethed 'Kill me, boy.' and pulled back. The crowd cheered for their Hero. The boy shook his head and refused to strike at Nero. Once again he struck and knocked the boy down. His smile still shined brightly as he lay there. 'You do not deserve to die, my time is up, be the new Hero.'”

“The boy's face changed and he looked as if he had lost something extremely important to him. All this time he looked up to Hero and now he foolishly came into the pit and was going to kill him. Yet, here Hero stood letting him take the kill because the boy reminded him of himself. Nero had accepted death finally, all because this boy had gave him back what he had lost, something he cared about.”

“With a sad heart the boy charged at Hero and Nero pretended to try and dodge it. The first one he did, he didn't want the crowd to think he just gave up. Yet, the second attempt the boy struck. Nero fell to the ground in agonizing pain, he had never felt this before. A new feeling, one to end his life with. The crowd gasped, but then roared out at their new champion.”

Muriel stood above the children, looking down at them as if they were Nero and backed up to sit back down in her chair. Slumping over as if she felt like she lost the fight.

“The boy realized not long after what Hero had really gone through. He felt for the man and focused on letting his name continue on through him. A Gladiator, one to remember, a Hero.”

The children sat there and began their normal chant for another story, but Muriel patted them on their heads and smiled. They knew they only got one story. They packed up their things and their mothers came to pick them up. Muriel waved bye and looked forward to their next story time.