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Weeks had passed and become months. Ish-they barely noticed the passing of time when he stood in the smithy, hammering the glowing metal sheets and pieces into the right shape. It was a special alloy that even a master smith like him found hard to work with. The half-armadillo needed almost all of his strength to bend the surprisingly thin bits, and adding the details was even more difficult.
But there was a lot of money to be made with this armor. And he owed Horace for this few months of youth, far more than the gladiator had said. Surprisingly, Horace never took advantage of that. He probably knew… no, he simply had to know how grateful Ish-they was, but it never occurred to the gladiator to ask for more than he had paid for. Although the smith could see the amused grin on the half-horse’s face, when the hammer hit the unfinished pieces of armor.
But as the armor got better and better, Ish-they started to feel uncomfortable around the gladiator. It started, when Horace had told him, what symbols he wished to have on the armor. The half-armadillo would gladly have made fire-breathing dragons, fearsome skulls, a clenched fists or anything else, that resembled the raw and unmatched power of Horace. But instead he had to make… this.
One day, when Ish-they took a little pause from the exhausting work and sat in his comfy chair, Horace walked in. The gladiator looked at the smith, who held a small, colored disc in his scaly hands, and gave a little laugh.
»You’re still wondering about my symbol?«
Ish-they noticed the huge axe the half-horse had brought with him. The very same symbol was engraved on its head and seemed to mock him with its disturbing happy smile. Three black jewels shone in the shaft, and the razor-sharp edges reflected the light of the fire in the smithy.
»Yes. It still find it rather… unfitting, Horace. Why this?«
»Because«, said Horace and took a seat. »I’m a happy guy who likes to smile. That’s why.«
»But… I don’t understand…«
Horace nodded.
»You don’t have to, Ish-they. But I have a dream, my friend. A huge wonderful dream, a dream of a new and better future.«
He leaned closer and nodded again.
»We will stand up against the humans, Ish-they. I will win the fights in the biggest arenas, I’ll be on the lips of every human, I’ll make myself a name among everybody on this world, show everybody how powerful we are.«
He paused.
»I’ll stand for a new generation of races. A race, that’s not something “half”. I’ll fight for the Horsean people, the Armadillan, the Dogan, the Catan…«
»Horsean? Catan?«, Ish-they asked puzzled. »Is that what you want to call us? Is that, what you want us to be? Just a bit more than the very same animals the humans use as pets? That seems hardly an improvement.«
»It’s better than being seen as “half”. Better to be a full-fletched talking animal than merely something that’s seen as half animal, half human. But it won’t matter, because it won’t be me who makes the decision. There will be others to guide us, others to find us a new name, others to give us the identity that we deserve!«
»You’re talking as if everything was wrapped up and ready to go«, Ish-they said slowly and put the disc on the table. »As if there was an army, their armors painted with your strange symbol and ready to march against the human warriors…«
»There is no army«, Horace said sharply. »But perhaps, there will be. Everything depends on you and me now. I have a new, powerful axe to wield against any gladiator who dares to cross me. Now all I need is a new and powerful armor.«
»Could you honestly tell me, that you won’t try to destroy the humans?« Ish-they asked bitterly. »Could you do that?«
»Why?«
»No matter how bad the humans treat us, they don’t deserve to be punished as a whole for what few of them do«, the half-armadillo said firmly. »I owe you a lot, Horace, for the magicks and all you did for me. But I hope you understand, that I simply can’t finish the armor, when I know that you will use it for such cruel acts!«
Horace didn’t say a thing for a while.
»Ish-they… I won’t kill more than I have to. And I hope that it won’t be many that have to be killed. If everything goes right, nobody will have to die for this.«
He sighed.
»I promise, that neither you nor your work will be used for a war against mankind. You have my word on this. By my honor as a gladiator, I’ll swear to you.«
»Well, I’ll trust you on this«, the armadillo said and watched the half-horse closely, as Horace got up, held up a large hand and put the other on his heart.
»No fingers crossed«, the gladiator said and winked.
»I don’t trust you or your motives at all«, Ish-they said. »But I trust your promise.«
»I never go back on my word«, Horace said. »I am well-known for that! What I swear is what I do.«
The smith got up and took the disc. Horace nodded and shouldered his weapon.
»When will be your first fight?«
»Oh, I don’t know exactly«, the gladiator said. »I’m still training, still getting the feel of my new weapon. There’s a lot of practicing to do, before I’m ready. But you’ll know. I’ll have an invitation send to you, as a little bonus for the work. But for now…«
He stretched a bit and took a few steps towards the door.
»I have other things to do. There’s another bag of gold to be spent. Work well, Ish-they.«
»I will, I will«, the half-armadillo said and walked towards the other door, that led into the smithy.

When Horace returned, he had gotten even stronger than before. The new, large axe required far more strength to wield, but when Ish-they looked at the horses figure, that seemed to tower even his own ‘new old’ stature. The smith knew his own strength pretty well, knew, what his body was capable of after years and years of being forged in the smithy. When he had felt the magick raging in his body, forcing it back into the shape it had used to be, he had felt the power returning, filling him like white-hot lava. Like a pent-up explosion, just waiting to be released.
But when he looked at Horace and the muscles on the gladiator’s body, he felt dwarfed. It wasn’t the height that made the half-horse look that huge. It was the aura of rock-hard determination. The way the gladiator carried his axe slung across his back, obviously without even noticing its weight. But Ish-they sighed with relief, as he noticed that Horace would still fit into the armor that the smith had forged. Although the half-horse had become more powerful and stronger than before, he hadn’t grown in size all too much.
»Hello, Ish-they«, said Horace with a faint smile on his horse lips. »How are things?«
»I’ve finished what you ordered«, the half-armadillo nodded. »You’d like to try?«
»That’s what I’m here for«, the stallion nodded. He followed the smith into another room, where the armor had been put on a dummy. The gladiator stood still and admired the smith’s work for a while. It was magnificent, a masterpiece that was gruesome and impressive. A disturbing sight, which would make its impression on the gladiators the half-horse would have to face. The metal had turned black, now looking more like horn than a metallic alloy. The spikes and blades that had been added stood like the thorns of a Bloodbush, making it impossible to tackle Horace without getting seriously wounded.
The shining yellow decorations seemed to glow on the armor, the disturbingly happy faces smiling their wide, happy smile. Horace took a few steps closer and stroked one of faces with a faint smile on his own face. Oh, what a wonderful victory that would be. When he would stand above a beaten human gladiator and knock him unconscious with a well aimed kick or the handle of the axe. Maybe they would laugh, when he entered the arena and when they saw the smiling faces on his armor, but to the man he was going smash into the ground, they were going to be the sadistic grins of a half-animal that would claim its place among the so-called “superior race”.
Oh yes, it was going to be a glorious fight. And he was going to savor every single second, from the first shattered emerald to the last blow.

»Let me help you«, said Ish-they, as Horace reached for the bracers. »You have grown a bit in size since I took your measures, so instead of fitting pretty well it will be a bit more difficult. And definitely too difficult for one alone to put on.«
»Yeah, I should’ve considered that«, the gladiator answered. »I can’t wait to try it.«
It took both of them about two hours, until everything fit. But when Horace stood up, he knew that all the time had been well spent. The alloy was sturdy, but not very heavy. It would not hinder his movement all too much, leaving him agile and fast enough for combatants with chain or even plate mail. He did not expect the human gladiators to come up with that kind of exotic – and above all: expensive – armor, so the first few fights were going to be easy.
Faint clanking filled the room, as Horace took a few punches into the air to get a feeling for the new equipment. After a while he nodded at Ish-they.
»Splendid work, Ish-they. Splendid indeed.«
»Well, it took some time. The alloy is hard to work with, I have to admit. But once you get the hang of it…«
»Like so many things.«
Horace nodded.
»I think, the humans are up for a surprise.«
»So, when are you going to fight?«
»Once I sign up in Gyallborn, I think it will take at most two weeks. Humans don’t like our kind to be powerful enough for their gladiators, so they’ll want to knock me down as soon as possible.«
He laughed bitterly.
»Like so many others. But not this time, oh no. Not this time.«
»Good luck«, wished Ish-they, as the gladiator prepared to leave.
»You’ll get the invitation, as promised. I think you should see this one.«
»We’ll see«, said the half-armadillo.
»And there’ll be a lot to see, I figure«, snickered Horace. »Until we meet again, Ish-they.«
»Until we meet again.«
As Horace walked leisurely down the street, the armadillo’s gaze followed him. He wasn’t sure if he would accept Horace’s offer to see the fight, but he surely was tempted to. Like any other smith he liked to see for himself, that he did a good job with that armor. And he felt like he needed to see Horace fight against another human. He needed to see, if the armor had gotten into the hands of a righteous crusader, a murderous fanatic or an insane megalomaniac.