Acheron

Takeshi rolled his eyes. "Surprise me, Atlantean. Attack. This isn't a dance party."

 

Acheron went for him and again, he landed face down in the sand. "You know, this isn't building my confidence. In fact, I think I'm just going to lie here for a bit and take in some sun."

 

Takeshi laughed, then patted him on the back. "Get up, Acheron." He looked over to where Savitar was now sitting on a rock watching them. "He doesn't anger easily. This is good."

 

Acheron laughed bitterly. "Yes, I'm more of a simmer slowly until it boils over and ruins everything, kind of man."

 

Takeshi turned back to Acheron and handed him his staff. "Just remember, anger is always your enemy. You must keep your emotions in check. The moment you lose control of them, you lose the fight every time."

 

Acheron twirled the staff around and brought it into a defensive block.

 

Takeshi tsked at him. "Always be the attacker. A defender never wins."

 

"Defenders get their asses kicked," Savitar said. "Trust me. I've got crack impressions on every pair of shoes I own."

 

Takeshi arched a brow at Savitar. "Do you want to teach him?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Then shut up or grab a sword and come help."

 

The humor fled Savitar's face. "Is that a challenge?"

 

"It would be if I didn't know for a fact that you're too lazy to rise to one."

 

"Lazy? Mesoula?"

 

"Eqou," Takeshi taunted.

 

Savitar flashed from the rock, to stand before Takeshi with a sword the likes of which Acheron had never seen before. He brought it down across Takeshi's vambrace. The next thing he knew, the two of them were at war.

 

Takeshi scoffed. "Ah, you fight like a sissy demon."

 

"Sissy demon? Have you ever met a sissy demon?"

 

"I killed three this morning."

 

Savitar swung at his throat. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the man's adam's apple.

 

Feeling neglected, but grateful he wasn't in the middle of this titanic brawl, Acheron went to sit on the rock Savitar had vacated.

 

Savitar shoved Takeshi back. "Your mother was a goatherder."

 

"It's an honorable profession."

 

"Yeah for a goat."

 

Takeshi swung around and kicked Savitar away. Savitar flipped over and came back with an upstroke that barely missed gutting him.

 

Takeshi shook his head. "Have you been drinking this morning? How did you miss me? I swear I've fought old women with better reflexes."

 

"The fact you fight old women tells me just how rusty you've become. What? Your ego needed the boost and they were the only ones you could find you could beat?"

 

"Savitar, Savitar, Savitar. At least I won. Wasn't it you who had to cry to the counsel to come save your ass from an attack of a four-year-old?"

 

Savitar gaped in feigned anger. "Four-year-old . . . tarranine demon. Don't forget the most important part. Those bastards are hatched full grown and it wasn't just one. It was a swarm of them."

 

"So you admit you had help?"

 

"Oh that's it, sensei. You're tasting sand . . ."

 

Acheron shook his head at their bantering. While they were being harsh to each other, there was a good-natured spirit that let him know they didn't mean a word of it. It was as if they were sparring with words the same way they were sparring with their swords.

 

Honestly, they amazed him. He'd never had a friend he could do that with. He envied them that.

 

Savitar twisted out of a nasty-looking headlock. "Hey, aren't we forgetting something?"

 

"Your dignity?"

 

Savitar rolled his eyes. "No, you have me confused with you again." He pointed to where Acheron sat. "Aren't you supposed to be training him?"

 

Takeshi let out a taunting breath. "So you admit my superiority by deflecting my attention to the neophyte . . ."

 

"I'm not admitting shit. I'm merely pointing out the fact that you and I know how to fight and he doesn't. Might be a good idea for him to learn."

 

"True." Takeshi put his sword across his shoulders where he held it with both hands and smiled at Acheron. "Are you ready to begin again?"

 

"Sure. My ego's had enough time to recover a modicum of dignity. Let's make sure we crush it again before I mistake myself for a god."

 

Takeshi laughed. "I like him, Savitar. He fits with us."

 

"That's why I called you." Savitar handed his sword to Acheron. "Good luck, kid."

 

"Thanks."

 

Acheron spent the rest of the day training with Takeshi who had to be the worst taskmaster ever born. He worked him until Acheron was sure he'd drop from sheer exhaustion. By the time the sun set and he was free to rest, his entire body ached.

 

Even so, he felt more confident in his skills than he'd ever felt before.

 

Savitar handed him his staff. "Go home to Katoteros and we'll begin again in the morning."

 

Still unsure why Savitar was helping him, he wished the older . . . being . . . good-night and returned home.

 

Acheron pulled up short as he saw Artemis waiting in the throne room for him. "What do you want?"

 

"I haven't seen you in days."

 

"And what a beautiful thing they have been."

 

She narrowed her gaze. "I told you that you'd have to feed from me."

 

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