The Blood of a Warrior

Chapter Nine

I awoke in a small bed. My feet hung off the edge. This wasn't my bed. My bed was big, big enough I could lay down comfortably. And my bed had Ariana in it.

Ariana.

I bolted upright, ignoring the burning pain that followed. Looking around, I found myself in the infirmary. How did I get here? I was in the Arena, fighting with Izolda and Nathan... and...

Oh. Right. That would explain the pain.

How long has it been? I can pass out for days after serious wounds. My record was three weeks, when I had my chest ripped open.

It didn't feel like it had been that long.

Voices arose from the silence. They were arguing. Focusing, I could make out the conversation.

"You don't understand. He has to wake up! There must be something you can do!" A thick Russian accent, but male.

"If there was anything I could do I would have done it already! We just have to wait and see." I didn't recognize the voice.

"You've been telling me that for the past week!" The accent was getting worse.

"There's nothing else I can tell you!"

"Well-" the first voice cut off, hushed by the second. Soft footsteps approached. A new voice appeared.

"I-is he any better?" Ariana. She had been crying. I tried to call to her, but no sound came out. My throat was parched. Each breath ripped from my lungs.

"He's doing fine." The second voice replied, almost cautiously.

She was so close. I had to see her.

Pain shredded my nerves as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I nearly fell over as I stood up, but caught myself on the bedside table. My vision danced like I was on acid. I stumbled across to the door, leaning heavily against it. My hands fumbled for the doorknob. The door opened and I fell forwards, cracking my head against the doorway.

The first person I saw was Ariana. Her eyes were red and there were dark, heavy bags beneath them.

The two people I had heard speaking before were apparently a new doctor and The Ringmaster, who barely caught me before I landed on Ariana. My stomach felt like someone had set it on fire.

"Isaac, you mustn't be walking about! You should be resting." The Ringmaster sounded relieved. He and the doctor pulled me to my feet and tried to lead back into the infirmary, but I shoved them away and threw my arms around Ariana, who was nearly crying from joy. I felt her arms circle my waist, irritating my stomach. I ignored the pain.

I was with Ariana. That was all that mattered.

She buried her head in my chest, which I now noticed was bare. I was standing in my boxers with a massive, bleach-white bandage around my gut. The white was now stained red.

"Wonderful, you've torn your stitches," the doctor sighed. "We'll have to restitch, and we're running low on thread." He looked at me. "Six hundred and ninety-seven stitches, the most I've ever done. It took four hours to piece your lower intestine back together." The Ringmaster shook his head, and reached out to grab my arm.

I wrenched away, stepping closer to Ariana. My legs shook, my nerves burned, and I wanted to sit down so badly, but I would not leave Ariana. I had to stay with her. I had to.

"Isaac, come on." He reached out again, and I stepped back.

"I don't have time for this Isaac. Come on, he seems to want to stay with you."

And he reached for Ariana.

He reached for Ariana.

NO.

I grabbed his arm, wrenching it behind his back. He cried out in pain, sending out curses in Russian. I heard Ariana gasp, and the doctor shouted something. Footsteps echoed in the hall, most likely The Ringmaster's guards.

I yanked on his arm, withdrawing another shout of pain, and snarled in his ear.

"NO ONE. TOUCHES. ARIANA." I shoved him away just as his guards barreled around the corner. He backed away, nearly falling over in his attempt to get away from me. His eyes were wide with fear.

I stepped between him and Ariana. I felt her soft touch on my arm.

"Come on, Isaac. You need to lay down." She led me gently back into the infirmary. I barely caught her throw and apologizing look towards The Ringmaster, who was circled by his guards as the doctor inspected his shoulder.

Ariana led me to my bed and helped me sit down. She sat next to me on the bed and curled against my chest. I encased her in my arms and began gently stroking her hair.

"You shouldn't have done that, Isaac." She sounded so... disappointed.

"I thought he was going to hurt you."

"You know he wouldn't do that."

I bowed my head, nuzzling the top of her head. She always smelled of... something. I couldn't quite put my tongue on it. Whatever it was, I loved it.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I panicked."

She sighed. "It's not entirely your fault. He shouldn't have grabbed you the second time."

Not knowing what to say, I pulled her closer. Voices in the hall snaked their way into my ears.

"I'm telling you he must be punished!" It was the bodyguard I had met the same day I met Ariana.

"You will not lay a hand on Isaac! It was entirely my fault." The Ringmaster, come to my defense.

"He attacked you!"

"I provoked him! He's in a haze of pain and in no right mind to be responsible for his decisions. He loves Ariana more than anything, and will protect her with his life. I grabbed her and he reacted accordingly. If you lay so much as a hand on him I will have you flogged!"

The arguments ceased and silence overtook the room.

After a while Ariana helped me lay down, curling up against my chest. She soon fell asleep, safe and snug in my arms. I followed not long after.

* * *

My recovery was quick, as they usually are. After the doctor replaced my stitches it took two weeks for my stomach to heal enough to take them back out. I wasn't allowed to train or fight for the next month, until both external and internal damages were healed, with another two weeks to get my strength back.

Usually recovery is hell, with no fights to get me my blood-fix and no training to keep me busy. Ariana had given me something else to get me my fix, not quite blood but almost as good. Frustratingly, she decided that would be too strenuous, so instead taught me how to draw humans more realistically, plus something called "chibi", but it was a bit too cute for my liking. She was always drawing someone named "Castiel". She said that he was an angel who was in love with a hunter. I wondered why an angel would wear a trench coat.

I tried to teach her the Russian alphabet, but I had never taught anyone before. She was extremely patient, and did her best to follow my scattered words.

I was, however, allowed to work in the kitchens. Ariana was an ex-line cook, so she moved fluidly in the kitchens. Her reflexes were cat-like, but when I told her this she said they were more cook-like than cat-like. She said that cat reflexes would take someone out of harm, while cook reflexes might put you into more harm. Someone with cat reflexes would realize that the falling pan was extremely hot and avoid it, but a cook would grab it anyway. This explained the scars and calluses on her hands.

I asked her about the burns on the underside of her forearms.

All she replied was; "Pizza ovens are bitches."