I wake up the next morning with the sun staring down at me waiting for me to act. I quickly rise, and hop off the bed rushing to start training for my battle. As I walk down the hall to the study I hear three loud knocks on my door Thump Thump Thump. I run to my study and grab my trident, tainted with a small amount of dried blood on its middle point. I jog to my door and hold my trident ready to impale whoevers on the other side, and slowly open it. “Quis es?” I ask the little boy, who looks terrified as I hold my trident by my side. “Ego et filius Mythos me vult dicere quod vis pugnare,” I could feel anger boiling inside of me, as I realized Mythos was practically threatening me. I was about to tell the boy his father was going to need luck if he wanted to live but, I held back something I could not do for much longer. Mythos deserved what he had coming and it was going to end tomorrow. “Hoc patri et erit vincere pugna. Non hoc tempus.” The boy nodded and responded with “Alexius Bene vale.” He sprinted back down the street towards his father's house.  I slam the door shut, and walk to my study. I place my trident against the wall and take a deep breath. Grabbing my father’s armor I through a devastating punch at the wall and begin to cry. I stop myself, telling myself to be strong for father. I finally make my way to the atrium beginning training for the match. My father was extremely skilled with the trident and parmula shield and taught me as much as he could before he was murdered, and he was fond of minimum armor for mobility. I smile to the memory of bragging to everyone who listened to the stories I made of my father, sometimes exaggerated. I lift the Thracian helmet from the assorted pile of his armor laying on the grass, and place it upon my head. There is a faint smell of my father’s hair, and a warm feeling grows in my stomach. I slip the his greaves on my legs, and put on the arm protectors. I look at my reflection in a cloudy puddle of water on the ground, and see my father and myself at the same time. I feel honored to wear my father’s armor, and but anger started stirring inside me when, my eyes fall upon the tear in the leather strap that goes across from shoulder protector to shoulder protector. The spot where my father was executed. My fists ball and my breathing grows heavy as I walk towards my wood training structure. I punch it furiously non-stop until I feel a white pain stabbing my knuckles. I grab my trident and start vigorously stabbing the wooden man in the chest, using my heavy attacks which are just slow yet powerful attacks using both my hands, when swinging. I keep swinging until for what feels like a few minutes and grow tired, and step back to catch my breath, and out the corner of my eye I see my parmula shining hopefully in the sorrowful moon. I bend down and pick it up. I place down my trident and begin practicing my shield dodges, when I dodge an attack and punish the opponent by punching them with the end of my parmula. It has many dents along the edge where, helmets have been ringed and I follow with a heavy immediately after only if my opponent is stunned. I have already mastered my toe stabs, light attacks, and impales through battle experience, but run over them briefly just to make sure, and I make sure to make them extra deep hoping I can inflict more pain to Mythos, and even cause him to bleed a large amount. Before I know it the moon has risen to its place in the sky and begins to dance among the stars, one I know is my father. I drag my feet to the study, the armor weighing down on my body. Using all my strength I take off all the pieces of armor, one after the other until none remain. I pick up the cloth and weakly begin polishing the armor down, only where scuffing is visible for I am too tired to completely wipe the armor down. I slowly make way to my bedroom and fall onto my bed, barely able to rise my head to look at the glistening moon. I eventually drift off to sleep.

I wake to a pitch black room, the only lighting is from the strike of electricity crashing outside my window. The room is empty, as is my soul for my father filled it but he is gone now and today I shall avenge him. Outside it is pouring rain, and there is an occasional roar from the clouds, the sound bounces from my walls echoing in the pit of nothingness and into the halls fading away into the shadows . I leap out of bed feeling not a bit of concern for the fight. I sprint to the study, and grab a piece of cloth off the nearby spruce desk, and quickly scrub all the gold armor. I rush to put on the armor as I need Mythos to feel my pain. I push on the Thracian helmet, then slide up the greaves. I yank the arm plating up my arm and up to my shoulder, then strap them on tight. Last I buckle the two straps connecting my arm pieces, and slide in my gold chest protector in the middle of the front strap, and grab my trident ready for battle. I jog out my door mount my horse Mercury and we are off to the Colosseum. Before I know it I am waiting at the gate waiting to enter the arena. There is a bigger crowd than expected but, I am not a stranger to attention. A older yet large man is waiting at the gates, he is most likely the judge for the game. Through the squares shaped into the heavy iron gates I see the beautiful arena. “Paratus es?” He asks me. I only nod as the anger is stronger than it has ever been, and words cannot escape the lion that is  my rage. “Aperi ante portas!” He hollers. Almost immediately after the gates creakily rise, slowly the crowd gets louder. I walk out into the the roar of the crowd. I slide my hand through the strap of my parmula, and tighten the grip on my trident, as the roar of the crowd echoes in my head. I stand in the center of the arena where a small circle is engraved in the sand. I face the gate directly opposite of the gate I entered through and wait for the scum to enter. The gates scream for mercy as they also open, and Mythos walks out with his short sword raised. “Et non erit longum, quia gladius tuus sus raising” I spit through clenched teeth. He stops ten feet in front of me, his black iron armor dripping with rain, reflects no light of the moon. It is dark a shadow almost, as my father’s gold armor glistens with the beams of light from the moon. The same man that guided me out the gate walks in between me and Mythos. He raises his hand holding up four fingers and begins counting down “unus duo tres” He then jogs away to a safe distance from us as we begin circling each other, but close enough to watch and judge the fight. I jump towards Mythos poking his stomach with a light attack, not even penetrating his second layer of skin. He swings a wide heavy attack, that I easily swatt away with my parmula, and I quickly stab him in the foot. I hear a satisfying crunch as my trident glides through his foot. He winces in pain, but swings his parmula at the front of my helm, catching me off guard it land. I fall backwards dazed, still hearing ringing in my ear. I shake my head trying to regain my senses only to be coldly greeted with a sharp pain running through my leg. I look down to see Mythos blade slowly puncturing my skin, it glides into my flesh as a bird pierces the sky . Do something I scream to myself, because I have the risk of immobilization and I know what that did to father. I quickly interlock my trident with his sword and push his sword up with all my energy, and eventually the sword exits my leg with a sucking sound. Still interlocked with his sword I twist his sword free from his hand, then fling it across the arena. He turns to run after it but I slash his achilles tendon before he gets far, and he yells out in pain as he crashes to the ground. Him crashing into the soaked ground makes a smacking sound, and mud and water particles fling into the sky, and the crowd is hollering. I flip him onto his back and put a firm foot on his stomach, he grimaces as he ungracefully rolls on his back. I smirk down on him as I impale his right shoulder with my trident. He screams in agony, as I slowly twist my trident in his arm, causing blood to spurt out like the fountain in my atrium. Loud crunching and tearing noises can be heard as I continue to twist my trident in his shoulder, I begin zoning in and out of consciousness, I quickly snap out of it but keep feeling myself slide in and out . The crowd roars the loudest it has ever as I raise one arm in the air screaming “Nonne opinionem?” I scream. I look around the crowd with an arm raised, but my stomach drops and, the world moves in slow motion as I see Mythos son crying, staring right at me. The judge walks over to me and says “non vicit illum nunc vos can consummare” I nod to him and rip out my trident from his shoulder, and there are three precise gouges that are gushing blood. I raise my trident slowly, and look into Mythos’s eyes. He stares back then after a while closes his.

I close mine to, but when I open them for the final blow, I see my father standing in front of me “Scio Filius meus es ob iram, sed in fine semper oculum pro oculo facit caecum ire per mundum” He says. “Pater autem habeo hoc facere quia filius mortis est.” He shakes his head when I say this, and he starts fading again. “Dico enim vobis mala ipse vos orphanos: sed erit tibi relinquo praevaluerint adversum me, et non faciunt”

I then return to reality and I soon realize a tear in sliding down my cheek, I look down at Mythos then drop my trident and parmula. I rip out the chest protector and straps, then yank off the arm plating. Mythos opens his eyes again sees me taking off my armor and lies back down to injured and tired to do anything. I finally take off my helmet, and place all the armor, my trident and parmula next to Mythos. “Da filium tuum, ut hanc” I say. The crowd begins roaring even louder than before, and I walk out the gate I entered. Tears drip down my face as I ride

My name is Alexios Balbina, son of Flamma the greatest gladiator and teacher ever to live. I am wiser than before and know that you cannot fight your problems away, all the time for what we do in life echoes in eternity. Death chose my father and I must accept that, as death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back. I am a son, a friend, a role model. Ego Gaius