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Chapter 5

Once again, I was on the sofa with a hot chocolate. Surprisingly, the sofa had valiantly survived the fight. Silence was cleaning some horrible looking weapon with lots of steel spikes and chains and Victor was pacing, muttering quietly under his breath.

"Gladiator?" he suddenly shot at me. I jumped.

"Um... yes?" I stuttered, not really sure why I needed to answer this question for the fifty-six billionth time. He continued pacing, muttering still.

I was just about sick of this attitude. And plus, the pacing was making me dizzy. "Look... can you-"

"No," he said sharply and I blinked in shock. I'd just been attacked for the second time today. People that are not me know my parents and I'm being transported weird places with men talking about effing Gladiators! Not to mention the fact that the same man that had just kissed me was now striding around in a fit of the vapors.

"Hold on, one little moment. I want some answers. Actually, scratch that. I need answers." No-one answered. Silence continued cleaning and Victor continued pacing.

That. Was. It.

"I WANT TO KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE!" Finally, they stopped what they were doing and looked at me.

Silence regarded me with contempt. "Be quiet child. Your Guardian is trying to think."

Could anyone be more infuriating?

I took a deep breath, trying to dull the red tinge of anger I was seeing. I counted to ten. Slowly. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10.

"I want to know what a Gladiator is." I said calmly, my voice shaking only slightly.

"Sit." Victor said.

I began to protest hotly. "Don't tell me what to-"

"Sit!"

I sat.

"You know about Gladiators, don't you? The Coliseum, Romans, arenas?" I nodded and Victor sat down next to me. "Well... bear in mind this is just a theory, but I think they're trying to build an army. An army of Roman Gladiators would be almost impossible."

"Almost?" I asked and he smirked.

"Keep positive, that's the spirit." His eyes sparkled slightly making my heart flutter. Something weird stirred in my belly, something strangely exciting. I shook it from my mind.

"So, tell me why I'm here."

"Well, like I said, your parents are... rebels. Your father was an Angel of Death like I said earlier, and he disagreed with Harth. He wanted the dead to remain dead. He thought it was kinder than making them live in a half-life of enslavement to an Angel of Life. The undead can be killed, but not with ordinary weapons. You saw the symbols on Silence's swords?" I nodded again, despite the rhetorical status of the question.

"Well, they have- for want of better word- enchanted the metal to kill the undead." He explained slowly and carefully, as if it was vital I memorised this, so I committed it to memory.

"So how come your knife doesn't have any symbols?" I queried, feeling like I should be taking notes. I mean, two hours ago I was going for a run with Sydney, now I'm sitting in a posh house with dead people stalking me.

"Because I'm a protector and my 'protectee' was in danger. So I can use anything to get rid of something hurting you," he said calmly, looking into my eyes. I blushed slightly and looked away.

"So, you could use a feather to massacre a tree that is poking me in the face?"

His face twisted into a smile. "Theoretically, yes."

I sighed heavily. "Who are my parents?" I asked desperately, and his face fell. My heart plummeted to somewhere near the floor.

"I can't tell you," me murnered softly. "I wish I could."

I nodded miserably. "I know."

To myself, I added; I will find them. I will.

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This chapter was wrote by fia-e-lia and edited by EvilAligator.

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