A small, satisfied smile curved Medusa’s lips. Not only had she beaten the other contender to the token, she also tested her long-distance speed without using breathing. Both had yielded reasonably satisfactory results.
Ignoring the aether-enhanced cry of the bird circling high above, she held the golden token up and observed its intricate design in the sunlight. A coin-like badge with a clipping pin. Embossed on its face were five stars circling a Doberman's head, and it gave off a familiar energy. Ares’ blood-red essence curled from the badge like smoke.
Every attempt to pull the token into her dimension failed. How clever, but annoying. Since she was the first to get to the token, she must bear the burden of protecting it from the other contender.
Scowling, she pinned the badge to her sleeve and tried hiding it beneath the aetheric film shielding her body. It didn't work. She huffed and tucked it under her pauldron instead. With luck, the armour's flaring energy would mask its presence. If not, she'd swallow the damn thing.
Swallowing something with a pin is dumb. Caution warned.
“Shut up.”
She turned, taking in her surroundings. In her haste to get the token, she had overlooked the strangeness of the bowl-like crater. Cool, humid air settled over small trees and shrubs that ringed the clearing, but the vegetation stopped too abruptly to be natural. Someone had carved a perfect circle of levelled basalt ground. It was a vast, deep grey plane. She liked it. The clouds had lifted now, but if she visited at dawn, she may have been able to touch—
Footsteps. Though muffled by aether, she sensed the subtle disturbance at the fringes of her spread awareness. Instead of climbing over the mountain peak like she had, the contender used some other route she hadn’t spotted.
Flicking her wrist, she drew out her practice stone. The heavy, tennis ball-sized rock had become her companion since yesterday’s surgery. As she tossed it, her blood did the rest, dragging the marked stone back to her palm with a smack.
They drew closer, breaching the vegetation and stepping into the stone ground.
Toss. Catch. Breathe. Toss even higher. Catch. Breathe. Her heart raced. That I feel anxious means I’m human. I'll be one of those soulless deities if I feel nothing while being stalked.
As they drew even closer, they discarded their attempt to hide their approach. A few more steps, and they stopped. So they preferred to wait rather than mount an outright attack. Just as she made a turn, they spoke.
“Is that the token?”
The practice stone slipped from her grip. Akrivi stood before her, expression uncharacteristically serious, staring at the stone by her feet. She scanned the crater for another presence. No one else. Just him. She exhaled slowly, her surprise fading with the action. It hardly mattered if it was Akrivi or someone else; she planned to win this.
He raised an eyebrow when the stone zapped into her waiting palm.
“I’m glad to see you.” Though smiling on the inside, she kept her expression carefully blank.
His focus travelled from the stone to her face and lingered. His gaze was first sharp with calculation, then quickly hardened with granite resolve. “You… you’re dangerous.”
Medusa blinked at his choice of words. Dangerous? Had her curse essence somehow leaked out? She checked and sighed when she saw that it wasn’t the case. Perhaps, his instincts warned him. A pleased smile ghosted her lips, then vanished as fast when she realised she couldn’t sense a whiff of danger from him. He felt too ordinary, like a regular mortal boy. Was it a shrouding technique, a tactic to force her to lower her guard? She had never seen him this serious. So, he planned to win, too? Good. The harder he fights, the better she’d be able to judge her progress.
“I also think you're dangerous.” She paced as she resumed tossing and catching the stone.
He mirrored her steps, watching her closely as they circled each other. “You've not answered my question.”
“What question?”
“Is that the token?”
Medusa’s smile melted as she stopped pacing. Looking from the stone to his face, she asked, “What do you think?”
Without waiting for a response, she tossed the stone into the sky. He shot for it, but she was faster. She grabbed his ankle and hurled him down with a shout. Shooting after him in the same breath, she aimed a kick at his temple. If she could knock him out fast enough—
He grabbed her leg and attempted to break it. But Medusa followed the flow of his attack, twisting as fast as he did. Dagger flashing out, she flung it at his face. He slapped the weapon aside.
They sprang apart.
Sniffing, he thumbed his nose as his eyes grew even sharper with lethal focus.
Medusa extended her arm, and her dagger returned to her grip. His eyes flickered from the weapon to her face. She raised a brow in silent challenge.
A long sword appeared in his grip. The weapon was different from the one he used in Drys Valon. Even from a distance, she sensed its energy. Similar to Perseus’ sword, but also different. If Perseus’ blade possessed a bright, warm aura, Akrivi’s was darker and frigid.
Whose son are you?
Silent as a whisper, he charged forward. A blink and he was slashing, sword aimed at her torso. Lysander’s brutal training had tripled her reaction time, so her defence was fluid. If he was frustrated with how easily she blocked his attacks, it didn't show.
She vaguely heard her training stone crash back to earth a distance away. His focus didn't shift. Was his strategy to defeat her before going for the token? Or has he figured the stone was a distraction?
He leapt away only to flash right back, his sword slashing at her neck. She fluidly blocked the attack, her heart remaining steady at what would have once driven her to a panic.
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A smile appeared on her lips. More. She needed him to try harder. It showed that he was holding back… that or he was reading her moves. The pains of fighting a smart opponent. And there was something else, an oddity she had noticed since they started their clash. She could vaguely sense the way he moved aether. Unlike her steady streams, his were thin strings, but he still managed to feed his weapon aether and delivered fluid movement.
I want to learn that too. In the past weeks, she had done her best to curb her “wasteful” use of aether. If this were a friendly spar, she would have asked him outright how he did it. Maybe she’d ask him after the—
A heavy blow to the gut scattered her thoughts. His fist sank through her aether shield, shattering it, and launched her through the air. Her lungs ceased functioning.
What the—
Though her shield immediately repaired itself, the pain didn't leave as fast, and for a brief, horrifying moment, she felt a jarring disconnection. Like he had punched her soul out of her body. Even Lysander’s punches, though ten times powerful, did not have that effect. Something aside aether had coated his attack.
Pulling on aether and air, she landed heavily on both feet. The earth shuddered as deep cracks formed across the stone ground. Lysander would have flicked her ear for such a rough landing, but Lysander wasn’t here.
Akrivi paced ahead, his features grim as he fanned and flicked his fingers repeatedly.
“By the gods, I loathe fighting doves.” He met her gaze. “Understand, I have to win this.” He appeared mildly distraught. More finger flicking. His sword was nowhere in sight.
A lesser part of her considered taking advantage of his softness towards women; maybe appear more hurt than she was—anything to win. She immediately discarded the thought. Knowing Athena, she'd likely bring a merciless contender. Better practice now.
Coming to a decision, Medusa withdrew her daggers and straightened. She had been taking this fight lightly. The pain in her abdomen, now fading to a dull throb, was a testament to her carelessness. Yes, he had used an unexpected move on her, but it was nothing compared to what she suffered in the hands of Ares and Lysander.
“I'd advise that you shelve your sentiments and fight me like you hate me.”
He stopped pacing and frowned at her.
“I promise to do the same.” Medusa shot at him, throwing herself to the revised dagger method Lysander helped her perfect.
His sword reappeared as they clashed. His movements were smooth, minimalistic and possessed the flow of gently moving water. No waste. Accurate, cruel slashes. The longer they fought, the more Medusa realised the only true advantage she had over Akrivi was her far superior aether reserve. All his attacks drew from a thin but steady line of aether, yet he blocked every stab, slash, kick. Everything.
She itched to ask who trained him, but giving him a moment to breathe meant another chance to deliver that horrid blow. So the battle of attrition continued. Even now, there was a film of sweat across his brow. She could try breathing since she could now use it twice a day. Not yet. She needed him even more exhausted.
“I sense something beneath your pauldron.” His eyes didn't drift in the direction of the armour as he spoke, nor did his attacks abate. “Is that where you hid the token?”
Ah, should I use poison? The thought, dark and eager, grabbed hold of her senses and fervently argued on its rationality. The eye was the only organ that aether couldn't fully protect. If I stab it with a poisoned pin...
But you may blind him.
You think I don’t know that?
That blow came again, but this time she was ready. As she leaned back to dodge, he aimed a kick at her side.
To hell with this stupid dance. “Breathing.”
In a tenth of a second, she snatched the offending leg and twisted it. Ignoring the crunch of breaking bones, she summoned her daggers and stabbed deep into both shoulders. Then, grabbing him by the neck of his tunic, she smashed her head against his. The aether-packed attack forced a groan, though the sound came unnaturally drawn out under the effect of her fast momentum. Another head butt. Then a third just to be sure.
Finally releasing him, she stepped back as she let the effects of breathing to fade.
Body limp, he fell on his back as his sword clattered to the ground.
Medusa grimaced. Did I… I didn't kill him, right? A groan answered her question. The freaking badger wasn't even knocked out.
Slowly sitting up, he appeared momentarily stunned as he glanced around. His leg twisted back in place. Red dripped down his forehead in garnish lines that met at his chin. He blinked slowly as he lazily peered at the daggers impaling his bleeding shoulders. Then, with eerie calmness, he crossed his arms and easily pulled out the daggers. Not even a flinch. What was stranger wasn't the calmness of his actions, but the way aether acted around him. It was twisting, just like Ares’.
His eyes, now completely black save for the neon blue in their middle, snapped in her direction. Medusa pulled her daggers back to her fists and rotated her shoulders in tense preparation. Her heart was a wild thing in her chest, but the reaction was welcome.
As he fluidly rose to his feet, the change began. Like a dye, black began coating his body from his feet up. The sapphire earring swinging from his left ear appeared to be spinning as ambient aether rushed to his body.
Things were getting dangerous. Whatever Akrivi was manifesting was far different from the cursed form she witnessed when he fought Vyron. First, she must secure the token. She never got to do that.
A blink and she was slammed to the far wall. Leaves, branches and chunks of rocks rained down on both of them, but her shield thankfully held. His hand was around her neck, hoisting her up.
Medusa took in the being before her, both horrified and fascinated. He was completely encased in the deepest black, with ribbons of his cursed essence moving like dark fire that formed a thrashing mane. At both sides of his neck were three thin gashes that moved as if he were breathing through them. Jutting from his forehead were twin curved horns tipped with neon blue. The worst were his eyes. It appeared Akrivi wasn't home, because what stared at her… the utter lack of humanity in their depth.
He squeezed her neck, slowly and most painfully cutting her air supply. When he spoke, his glare was fixed on the pauldron.
“This thing wouldn't let me kill you.” His voice was deep and disjointed. “Should I get rid of it?” He cocked his head like a curious bird.
Gripping her daggers, she slashed deep lines across his torso. Blue leaked out instead of blood, the attack barely earning a flinch. Before, it seemed he was lacking aether, but now it poured off him with an obscene abundance. What was that earring?
“Fear.”
The whispered command pressed against her mind, relentless as it tried to force in foreign thoughts and emotions. Medusa easily repelled the attack.
“How? How are you not terrified?” He calmly observed her fight for every breath, mild curiosity alight in neon eyes. “How are you resisting?”
Medusa would have laughed if her thin air supply allowed it. She had noticed it with Ares, too; those stupid commands deities loved to give were the only times she could understand their accursed Theos Tongue. And they never worked on her. Akrivi was truly a rare breed. She had never heard of a blood-carrier possessing the ability to wield Theos Tongue commands. Oh… there was that time Perseus used it at the festival.
What Lysander said about his father suddenly returned to mind. Hopefully, it wasn't what she suspected.
“Akrivi,” Medusa managed to wheeze as she ruled out using poison on him. “You're full of interesting surprises.”
For the first time since his change, there was a shift in his expression; a glimpse of the boy she knew made an appearance. “Do you… know me?”
Smiling at his confused stare, she grabbed his arm as her claws punched out. “Say, have you ever seen a gorgon?”
When he still didn't answer, Medusa finally let her curse breathe.
Later!
Who Is Akrivi's Father?
