Chapter 2

"Pikes at the ready! Begin!" Fang's loud, grating voice echoed through the chamber, and was quickly accompanied by the cracks of wood on wood. With a hint of arrogance in his step he strode between the ranks of his students putting each other through their paces, observing each and every one of their movements carefully.

"Move your feet!" he barked to one of his pupils. "And keep them moving! By Serpos, I thought I'd thought you how to hold a spear!"

The aforementioned student had had his pike struck from his hands. His opponent dutifully signaled the end of the match by laying her own spear on his shoulder. All seven of the boy's heads looked towards Fang pleadingly, while all three of hers looked smug.

"Retrieve your pike and start again from the top." Fang's voice was cold as he moved on, kicking the young Hydra's fallen spear towards him. He could be a harsh mentor, everyone knew that.

Fang almost expected to hear the snarling. It happened every lesson; some match would get out of hand, more often than not in his blind spot. Sighing, he turned to see who it was this time. But who it was surprised him.

Hsss and Soras, they were hardly ever paired together, and both were good students, haughty but good. They were the two who were most prone to doing their own thing, and obviously being paired together brought that out and even amplified it. Their pikes were currently locked, pushing against each other, while the eyes of their central heads locked as well. Soras' snarl only just bared his fangs, while Hsss looked just about ready to bite, his jaws open, his fangs dripping.

"Hsss! Soras!" The two adolescents didn't heed Fang's warning. Even three years after the little mock invasion in which they had both participated they were still bold as brass. Now is when it gets ugly, Fang thought with a sigh, either Soras is going to start fighting dirty, or Hsss is going to lash out with his magic. He had specifically instructed them to use only the techniques he taught them while training, and to only incorporate their own on the battlefield.

It was Soras who overstepped his boundaries first, turning his body and bringing up his tail to knock Hsss' feet out from under him. Hsss was caught completely off guard and toppled over backwards. But the instant his back touched the floor, and as Soras swung his pike downward towards his chest, Hsss vanished with a flash of green light and an electrical snap. Soras' staff nearly splintered against the stone floor, and Hsss' smacked harshly into his shoulder from behind.

"Hsss! Soras!" By this time Fang was upon them, his arms folded, glaring them down. By then all the other students had ceased their sparing matches to watch. Reluctantly Hsss lowered his pike, stepped away from Soras, and stood at attention, with a look of defiance in his eyes. Rubbing his aching shoulder and grumbling, Soras did the same. In the silence that followed, few dared to so much as breath.

"I do not recall teaching either of you those techniques." Fang's icy voice was laced with fire as he sized each of them up, his glass eye glinting menacingly. The two adolescents continued to look defiant and remained unmoving, their eyes locking his.

"But you do recall teaching us to do whatever was necessary to survive, yes?" It was Hsss who spoke, his deepening voice containing a hint of a growl. "I only did what would have been the only thing that would have saved me on the battlefield."

"Does this look like a battlefield to you, Hsss!" Fang roared, gesturing wildly at the room around them, pushed to the limit by Hsss insolence. "You know my rules! Both of you!"

"I'll have to agree with Hsss…" Soras began, aiding Hsss in his defiance.

"I would not so much as whimper if I were you, Soras," The enraged pike-man turned sharply and pointed a talon menacingly at the youth, baring his fangs. "It was you who first stepped out of line."

The cream colored, five-headed Hydra didn't so much as flinch at Fang's violent temper and snarl. Hsss also remained unimpressed, and decided to go all the way to the limits with his defiance.

"Your method of teaching is outdated, Old-One." Hsss' arrogant tone made Fang whip around to glare at him, eyes wide with rage. "Fighting by rules is not the way of war, and you know it. Will our enemies use the techniques you teach us, the only ones you've prepared us to do battle against? True warriors do not fight by rules, so why bother branding it in our minds to give our opponents the chance to do it their own way while we all do battle in a predictable manner?"

Fang was silent for a moment, and the other students began to murmur in agreement. Both Hsss and Soras smirked in victory, subtly brushing their knuckles together in acknowledgment of this triumph. Fang's eye never left the pair as he slowly regained his composure.

"Outdated, eh? Predictable, eh? Well, we shall see about that." As Fang struggled to keep his voice calm and even, he turned and stormed back to the open end of the room, the one used as a stage. The murmuring became even more intense, but Hsss and Soras remained unconcerned. Spinning around, Fang glared and snatched his own pike from its leaning position against the wall, holding it tightly and at the ready.

"To the front! Both of you!" The room fell dead silent at the sound of those words. Fang was a strict teacher and an experienced war veteran, and no greenhorn warrior has ever made him so much as break a sweat. For the students, fighting him was considered a punishment.

Hsss and Soras looked first to each other, then to Fang, then to their fellow students who now looked at them with pity, back to Fang, and then back to each other. Nodding slightly they strode towards the front as instructed, their nervousness slipping through their masks of defiance. Coming to a stop before Fang, they stood side by side at attention.

"Since both of you seem so keen on disregarding my method of teaching, I suggest you demonstrate to me why it is so flawed. You are to both fight me." Fang's phrasing was steady through his heavy breathing, and his glare was hard. For a moment Hsss and Soras were confused.

"So you will only use what you've taught us?" Soras asked as he moved to Fang's right, bringing his staff into the ready positing as he walked, never taking his eyes off of his teacher.

"Only those," Fang spoke calmly as he nodded slipping into his fighting crouch.

"And we may use any techniques that we choose?" Hsss inquired as he moved to Fang's left, tapping his own pike lightly in his hands and twirling it slightly.

"Whatever suits you best," Fang answered adjusting his head so that both students were in his sights. "Begin!"

Soras made the first move, rushing his teacher swinging his pike towards his head. Fang ducked effortlessly and smacked the staff far to the side with his own, throwing Soras off balance. Hsss charged in next, swinging his pike low, only to have Fang summersault over it and bring his own staff up to swipe at Hsss' collarbone, forcing him back.

The two adolescents fell back to regain their composure, while Fang stood straight between them, his pike held loosely at his side. Slowly, he turned around in place to look at both of his students. He smirked when they hesitated to attack again, and decided to taunt them.

"Is this it? Is this the extent of your abilities, Soras? Is this all you can conjure, Hsss? I had expected better."

With shrieks of fury both Hsss and Soras charged in, their pikes slicing the air as they were swung at Fang's midriff from opposite sides. But again the old warrior leapt clear and the two staffs locked beneath him. He jabbed the end of his own pike harshly into Hsss' sternum and Hsss fell away. When he landed he brought the other end of his pike to do the same to Soras. But he strafed away and caught the spear in his fist, pulling it and Fang towards him with a jerk. But Fang was not to be bested so easily, and threw his weight behind his end of the pike, wrenching it from Soras' grip and throwing his student to the floor.

While struggled to rise Fang paced before them tapping his staff lightly in his hands.

"Are you quite finished yet? Have I sufficiently proven my point?" His only reply was Soras gripping Hsss beneath the arm to help him stand, and both of their hard glares. They were far from finished.

With another snap and green flash Hsss vanished once more. But Fang was not easily fooled and spun around to neatly parry the pike that swung for his neck. Hsss was shocked that someone had anticipated his move, but Soras did not miss a beat, thrusting his pike at Fang's knee. But it, too, was dodged and parried by the other end of Fang's staff.

Time to end this, the old warrior thought with a scowl. While Soras was still regaining his balance, and while Hsss was preparing another high swing, Fang swung his pike hard, right into Hsss' gut. Gasping for the breath that had been forced from his lungs Hsss dropped his staff in favor of clutching at his midriff. With a small twirl Fang readied his pike for another swing, this time the hard wood smacked into Hsss' back, right where his necks joined. Fang gave a slight nod of satisfaction as Hsss' legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

Soras' next attack was just as Fang predicted, and before Soras knew what hit him his wrist was struck and his pike dropped from his hand. Fang deftly kicked the fallen staff away and prepared his next strike. Soras acted on instinct, and charged in with his fist raised for a punch. But Fang was faster, and his pike connected with Soras' central jaw, sending him reeling to the side. Soras tasted blood, and before he knew it Fang had knocked his knees out from under him with his back swing.

Satisfied that his rebellious students had been soundly defeated, Fang turned to his other pupils and viewed them with a triumphant expression.

"If there is anyone else who doubts my methods of teaching let them speak now." Fang didn't expect them reply, and their silence felt satisfying. "Well then, now that that's all over with, you are dismissed."

Slowly the students turned and filed out of the room into the open hall, leaving their staffs leaning against the wall as they left. Sighing, Fang turned as well to collect Hsss and Soras' discarded pikes. Both of them were struggling to rise, panting. As Fang walked past them he said nothing, not even to the trickle of blood flowing down Soras' chin, or to the bruises that were blossoming on both Hsss' back and gut.

Soras was the first to stand, albeit shakily, gingerly checking his jaw with one hand to make sure that no teeth had been broken. But Hsss was still trying to regain his breath, and his limbs would not support his weight. Hesitantly, Soras approached his fallen partner-in-crime, looking desperately between him and their teacher, but Fang kept his back to his students while he put the pikes back in their proper place in a bundle against the wall. Not receiving any response, he reached down and hefted Hsss' limp form into a weak standing position with his arm and two heads thrown over Soras' shoulder while he slipped his own arm and two of his heads under Hsss' other arm to support him. Fang didn't say a word as they limped from the chamber.

The greenstone hallway was rather empty, despite the fact that the other students had only just left, and that it was only a few hours past noon, normally the busiest time of day. Sunlight streamed in from the high windows and the occasional skylight. Unlit torches lined the walls awaiting the coming of dusk, their tops blackened and some of them still smoking slightly from their last flame. Soras' footsteps and Hsss' shuffling echoed quietly as they traversed the hall, heading nowhere in particular, but both hoped that they were headed in the general direction of the infirmary to at least get some pain killers.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?" Hsss wheezed suddenly, half a grin appearing on his central head.

"Yes, it was. Painful, but fun nonetheless," Soras replied, grinning back, only dimly aware of the blood that was still dribbling down his chin. They were both silent for a moment while the continued on, before breaking out into nervous laughter. So caught up he was in his own little world, Soras barely noticed that Hsss was pushing against his shoulder a little harder than his weight would suggest.

"Soras, I think I can stand on my own now," Hsss half growled through his chuckling, as he tried to shove himself away from his companion. Soras grudgingly complied, releasing Hsss from his grasp. He stumbled a few steps before finding his feet, and they continued to walk side by side in silence, Hsss with an arm on his midriff. Their footsteps continued to echo, and both took note of the stillness.

"Where is everybody?" Soras wondered aloud, scanning the side corridors, which were just as empty as the one they were walking in.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Hsss shrugged in reply. But as if in answer to their question the two adolescents heard a slightly distant tumult of voices coming from the main hall. They paused for a moment, and then looked between each other. In an unexpected move, Soras turned and rushed towards the main hall's nearest entrance, leaving a stunned Hsss to hobble after him.

"Hey, wait up!" Hsss rasped as he tried to follow, his strides shortened by the pain in his abdomen. When he finally did catch up, he found Soras leaning over the balcony looking into the main hall, which now seemed to hold a good chunk of the clan's population. Hsss also noticed that many of their fellow students were here on the parapet as well.

"It would seem that we have a messenger," Soras noted as the shrill whinny of an agitated horse rang out and echoed through the hall. Hsss nodded as he, too, saw the white-caped Snakeman mounted on a rearing, black horse in the center of the massive room.

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Eight days ago a summons had been sent out from the priests in Midgar, to be distributed through Clan Equifalus to all the clans. Seven days ago the young Gorgon rider had been given his own summons and one to take to Clan Quetzalcoalus. Both he and his black mare were tired, sweaty, and dusty from the long road when they finally did reached Tamat. Both were in desperate need of rest, but the summons was urgent, and time was not to be wasted.

It seemed as though his appearance at the gates of the citadel came as a complete surprise, for his white messenger's cloak had drawn quite a crowd. The main hall seemed to contain the entire population from what he could tell. His mare was not used to such crowds, and reared, whinnying restlessly. He whispered softly to her, stroking her onyx neck gently.

As the horse settled, so did the crowd. The murmuring faded and they all stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to state his purpose. He would not make them wait.

"I bring a message for Serpentor, Patriarch of Clan Quetzalcoalus, from the priests at Midgar," the rider spoke loud and clear, his words eliciting more whispers from the crowd. "If someone would take my horse, and bring me to him, I can deliver it."

A young, nine-headed Hydra approached the Gorgon as he dismounted and took the reigns. Muttering to calm his steed the rider allowed her to be led off, while another, older Hydra, a green and copper, seven-headed one, motioned for him to follow. The crowd parted for them like flesh for a blade as the rider was led into the heart of the citadel.

The journey was uneventful, as no one stopped them and neither of them spoke a word. The only thing that the rider noticed was how many fights of stairs they had to go up. It was beginning to wear on his knees. And it didn't help that he was already soar from riding for seven days with few breaks.

When they finally reached the panicle, Serpentor was waiting for them, gazing silently out over the plain around the citadel, his arms clasped behind his back. He turned slowly when he saw them, nodding slightly to first his fellow Hydra, and then to the messenger. Both the Gorgon and his escort bowed in reply.

"That will do, Gadrus, you may go." Serpentor spoke calmly, as he gestured subtly to seven-headed Hydra. The aforementioned Gadrus bowed even lower as he turned and walked back down the stairs. The Patriarch then focused on the rider, looking him up and down, and shifting his weight from foot to foot, almost as if sizing him up as an opponent.

"I had expected someone older, you seem a bit young for a messenger." Serpentor's eyes narrowed as he spoke, and he began to shift his weight even more.

"They still don't consider me old enough to ride into battle, my lord," the Gorgon spoke with a little trepidation. Serpentor grinned in response.

"As they rightly should, as you are still a child by their reckoning, albeit a mature one; old enough to take care of yourself on the road, but not yet on the field of battle." The rider looked a little sheepish at Serpentor's response. The old patriarch cocked his head slightly, staring at him, as if he saw something familiar in his face. After a moment of silence, he continued.

"What is your name, young-one?" Serpentor's voice was unusually quiet, as though trying to answer the question himself before having it given to him. He looked hard at the young Gorgon's face, the gray-green scales seeming to scream the explanation but he couldn't make out the words. The rider was confused by this behavior, but respectfully replied anyway.

"Snake Face, son of Poseidon, my lord." Serpentor's eyes lit up with recognition, realizing the origin of that flat-ish face.

"Ah, yes! I might have guessed your birthright. You look just like your father, did you know that?" Snake Face half nodded, half shook his head, pushing his white cloak back to reveal his plantigrade feet, and apparent lack of a tail. "All except for the tail, must get that from your mother. I've fought along side both of them, and they are both great warriors. But I'm sure you're told that all the time."

The young Gorgon nodded again, and rolled his eyes, half smirking as memories arose to confirm Serpentor's statement. Sighing and grinning slightly, Serpentor nodded back, before the grin faded, as he knew that there were obviously more important things to discuss.

"But, on to the reason you are here, Snake Face. I am told that you bring a message from the priests of Midgar, am I right?" Serpentor spoke darkly. Whenever the priests contacted them it always meant that something was wrong, terribly wrong. The last time they issued a summons was to deliver the warning that the Chaos Bringer had his sights set on Eternia, and that he would strike once the people were divided. That was back when he was seventeen winters of age.

"Yes, I do," Snake Face replied as he reached beneath his cloak to the satchel attached to his belt, from which he drew forth a metal, leather wrapped cylinder. He deftly twisted the top off, tucked it under his arm, and dumped the contents of the container into his hand. With near professional precision, Snake Face tucked the canister under the same arm as the lid, passed the rolled up parchment to his other hand, and handed it to Serpentor.

The old Hydra took the ivory-white parchment hesitantly, turning it over and over in his hands, running a clawed finger around the Midgar seal, a depiction of Serpos, before carefully breaking it. He unrolled it slowly and read it over, once, twice, three times, letting its message sink in. His face darkened, and he felt his mouths becoming dry. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he prepared to do what needed to be done, and by Serpos he had wished that he'd never have to.

"Terkas!" The servant standing off to the side of the room that Snake Face didn't even notice stepped forward. "I need you to find Hsss and bring him here."

Serpentor's voice was wavering as he spoke those words. As Terkas complied with his order, the old patriarch began losing his composure. By all the gods and demons I never wanted for Hsss to become involved, he thought, desperately trying to hold back the tears.

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"Look at it this way, it could have been much worse, considering old Dead Eye," Soras stated as he paced a few steps in the infirmary, dabbing his central jaw with a wet cloth. Next to him Hsss sat on a wooden, cloth-covered examining table with a steaming mug of a strong smelling herbal tea in his hand, the painkiller he'd hoped for. Nearby the healer on duty was cleaning a few surgery knives, still shaking her head slightly at the predicament the two adolescents had described landing themselves in with Fang.

"Yes, much worse indeed," Hsss replied as he took a sip of the tea, flinching slightly at the heat. The infirmary was a long, stone room lined with tables like the one Hsss was sitting on. Between each of the tables was a small, running water sink with a collection of surgery knives hanging on racks above each one. From the ceiling hung a great variety of herbs, giving the room a very homely smell.

"You two are both very lucky he didn't break any of your bones," the healer interjected almost casually as she ran a talon along the edge of the scalpel she had been cleaning. Both boys nodded in response, Hsss taking another gulp of the tea.

A rather loud throat clearing caught all their attentions. All three of them looked up quickly to see Terkas standing in the doorway, staring at Hsss.

"There you are, Hsss. Fang said you might be here," Terkas said softly, stepping into the room.

"Hello Terkas. What did I do this time?" Hsss replied with a hint of sarcasm. Soras smirked and tried to hide it with the cloth.

"As far as I know, nothing you haven't already been punished for." Soras snorted in laughter, and Hsss narrowed his eyes at him. "Your father wants to see you."

"What about?" Hsss asked as he raised a brow.

"As far as I could tell it's about the message from Midgar." Terkas' expression darkened as he spoke. "I have a feeling it doesn't bode well."

"What does this message have to do with me?" Hsss was becoming increasingly more worried.

"He didn't say." Hsss frowned, sighed, and downed the last of the tea, setting the empty mug next to the sink. "Come, he is waiting."

"Where?" Hsss asked as he hopped off the table.

"In the council room." Hsss nodded and closed his eyes, picturing the layout of that chamber in his mind. He could feel the presences of two others, one his father, the other he didn't know. Fortifying the image he prepared.

"Hsss, wait!" But Hsss did not heed Terkas, his mind centered on the council room. And before he could be broken out of his trance, he was gone in a flash of green light, the air snapping around the area he once occupied.

An instant later Hsss reappeared in the council room with another flash, eliciting a yelp from the Gorgon he presumed to be the messenger. His father was only slightly surprised by his sudden appearance.

"You summoned me, father?" Hsss stood up straight, at attention as he had done earlier for Fang. The way his father looked at him, such a sad gaze, was unnerving. Sighing and averting his eyes, Serpentor began to speak.

"As you undoubtedly know by now, a message has come from Midgar. But it is not just any message; it is a summons. You, Hsss, have been summoned." Serpentor's voice was cracking as he tried to choke back the tears that were threatening. Now he knew what his own father felt like when his son was called for by the priests. And he knew well what Hsss would soon feel.

"But… why?" Hsss, too, was uneasy, having picked up on his father's woefulness. Serpentor swallowed heavily and hesitantly approached his son.

"War is brewing, it would seem. You can read it for yourself," Serpentor murmured weakly as he handed over the parchment. He turned away as Hsss took it, hanging his heads, slowly running his hands up and down his arms in a failing effort to calm himself. Slowly and unsurely he unrolled the parchment and began to read.

Serpentor, Patriarch of Clan Quetzalcoalus,

Word may have reached your ears by now of how the increasingly hostile human revolts are spreading to the other races. You may have also heard of the man who leads them, Grayskull. He has become too dangerous and has gained too much power, though we, the priests of Midgar, will take partial responsibility for his ascent to power.

Grayskull is the greatest threat we have ever encountered and it will take the combined might of all the Snakemen clans to keep Eternia united under one banner. One young, potential leader has been summoned from each clan. From Quetzalcoalus we summon your son Hsss. He is to report to Midgar as soon as is possible. All the information he needs will be received there.

In Serpos' name,

Asp'rios, High Priest of Serpos

For a moment, Hsss was not sure what to say. He stared blankly at the parchment, and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

"I… I'm not quite sure I understand…" was all Hsss could muster. He was so unnerved that he didn't even resist like he normally did when his father pulled him into an embrace.

"I never wanted you involved in this war, Hsss, not this young!" Serpentor no longer bothering to hold back the tears and sobbed, hugging his son tighter to his chest, never wanting to let him leave; wanting him to be a child forever.

With that thought, Serpentor broke away from Hsss, holding him by the shoulders at arm's length. No, he had to let him grow up. Slowly he regained his composure, until he was ready to speak again.

"But we cannot resist our destinies," he said softly, and meekly, a state few had ever seen him in before. "Pack what you need for a long journey, Hsss. You leave tomorrow."