[A/N] And the tale continues, interesting exercise getting so many done in so short a time. Couldn't get one out every day due to family commitments, but I'll endeavour to keep going as quickly as possible. Let's carry on, shall we?
Broken Bow: The 12 years of Christmas
Chapter 4: 2003
December 24th 2003 11:35pm. Twelve Miles north-east off the US coastline.
Armani was not in the best of moods. This was not the most surprising of events, though even the young demigod had to admit that this was happening more and more frequently. He had recently started becoming irritable and angry at everything, seemingly at the drop of the hat.
It was all a distraction of course, as he couldn't very well let Apollo or anyone else know what he was truly upset at:
Himself.
And he had no idea why.
He could ignore the sensation most days, but it flared up on occasion, and never quite fully vanished; like a lingering nagging in the back of his head.
The reason he was angry tonight however was different entirely, and it was something he found almost pleasingly justifiable:
Apollo.
The boy was sat cross-legged on the prow of the Yacht Apollo had stuck him on for the evening, scowling.
The sun god hadn't said why he'd picked up the demigod (literally, by the scruff of the neck) and dropped him down on the boat. All he had said was that he didn't want his condo ripped apart again this year. He also heard him mutter something about 'no outside help'
Armani took a breath to calm himself, the gentle rocking of the waves was soothing in a way he didn't expect.
His eyes flicked up to the half-moon that hung in the clear skies. A shuddering thrill passed up his body for a second and the rocking of the boat seemed to intensify for just one instant.
Luckily, the boat was Apollo's, so it was stocked with a standard array of weapons: bows, arrows, swords and the like.
He wasn't as proficient with the sword as the bow but he took one just to be on the safe side. It was a little large for the demigod, but it would have to do.
The bow and quiver of arrows would still be his first choice, since he had discovered his proficiency with them earlier in the year, much to his uncle's understandable delight.
Armani's brow twitched as he remembered the incident; one arrow embedded in a target, having speared down through the shaft of the one he had just fired. It was strange, as upset as he had been getting at himself in recent months, despite all that, in that one instant, he felt...proud, if only for a fleeting second.
Then there was the incident in the alleyway, the teenage boy with the knife. Armani had snuck out, as he so often did and went exploring, and found himself in the situation after choosing to cut through a small nearby town.
He had been afraid, pressed back against the wall; he was becoming prey.
He knew simply handing over what valuables he had would've ended it, but that concept that...thought of being hounded like some helpless rabbit caused something to snap inside of him.
It was like a voice, calling at the back of his mind, willing him on and opening him up. And so he screamed, and he screamed loud, but this was no normal scream; it was the cry of nature, of every kind of beast and creature alive in the wild.
The wild responded.
The older boy was already retreating in terror at the cry the boy emitted, but didn't get very far as every living thing in the surrounding area set upon him: Cats, dogs, rats and, to Armani's detached bewilderment, even a somewhat annoyed Komodo dragon.
Apollo had told him later that the thief did survive with no lasting injuries, though he did spend most of the evening getting his wounds painfully sterilised and getting about a dozen tetanus, antibiotic and anti-viral injections in his backside.
Armani was amused.
Something else had happened though. After the assailant had fled, Armani felt a tingle, followed by a stabbing, searing pain in his shoulder.
It was a pain so debilitating and intense he had blacked out and awoken on his back with Apollo looking over him. Lanaya had been there at the time, and if Armani didn't know better about the stern Nymph, it looked like she had been crying for some reason.
This was not the only occurrence of this though. Twice more in the year this had happened. Once, a pain, worse than the first, had reappeared; this time in his left leg and later in the year on his right arm.
Always the same pain, but always worse each time and the area it covered always getting larger...
And each time Apollo was standing over him when he awoke. He would never explain it though, no matter how much he demanded it. Apollo would just say it was a 'special case' and not to worry and he would take care of it.
Suddenly a voice in the back of his head called out again. More like an echo of thought, louder and clearer than the first time he heard it when it was just willing him in what to do.
Behind!
The word was disturbingly clear and Armani found his body leaping to its feet in reaction.
He was here.
'Santa' stood tall in his sleigh, hovering over the pitch black waters, "Not bad, boy." he said in that deep, but somehow cocky and patronising tone, "I thought I had masked my approach completely, even muffled the sleigh bells. Your instincts are getting better."
Armani didn't pause to think, nor did he consider entertaining a conversation. He just acted.
In one move he grabbed the bow laying on the deck and in another he swung about, nocking an arrow and loosed it directly at the man in red.
The aim was good, but 'Santa' was faster.
To Armani's annoyance he vanished in a poof of powdered snow. Armani never considered for one second holding back from lethal force; everything in his mind and body screamed that he'd have to go all out and hold nothing back if he were to even stand a chance.
The demigod's power over beasts was useless out at sea so he had to fall back on the basic skills he had learned in the year since he had last fought the man which, in a way, was how Armani found himself preferring it.
"You know," said 'Santa', Armani turning about to scowl at the man who was lying lazily against the yacht's glass windows, "despite attacking me every year, you never complain about the presents, and never once have you thanked me."
Armani frowned and regarded 'Santa' for a moment, the man's eyebrow cocked up expectantly. The demigod rolled his eyes and said in a reluctant mumble, "Thank you..."
'Santa' grinned and Armani noticed how unnaturally white his teeth were, "There you go. And this is for you," he said, and slid a parcel across the deck towards him.
Armani's eyes flicked from the present to the old man and, putting his bow to the side and grabbing his sword, bent down and grabbed it, all the while keeping his eyes locked on 'Santa'.
"You can't open it until tomorrow, though." said 'Santa' sternly as if it were deathly important.
"I know that," frowned the boy and, despite everything, he found himself shaking the present once.
"And not at midnight either, you have to wait until morning."
"I know," said the boy with a scowl.
After setting the gift aside, he watched as 'Santa' braced his palms flat against the glass and Armani knew he was preparing to strike.
He was still ranged though.
Armani dropped his sword and grabbed his bow, loosing another shot straight at the old man.
This time he didn't vanish, nor did he dodge.
He seemed to smirk as the arrow rebounded off his forehead and clattered harmlessly onto the wooden decking.
Armani glanced at the arrow quickly, it's point slightly bent from the impact; like he had shot it at a brick wall.
'Santa's bright blue eyes narrowed slightly, "An arrow made of wood with an iron tip: you really think that could hurt me?"
Armani's teeth gritted slightly. The old man was like Apollo; regular steel and iron seemed to have no effect if he knew the attack was coming, only enchanted weapons or specialised metals like celestial bronze would have any effect more than startling him.
That only left his sword, which did have a celestial bronze blade.
Tossing the quiver and bow aside he readied his sword in the stance Apollo had taught him. The hilt was too big for his hands and the weapon was a bit clumsy, but it was the only thing he had capable of doing any damage.
'Santa's' eyebrows rose, "So you'll resort to a weapon you've barely trained with and is much too big for you? The wise option would be to retreat."
Armani glared at him, "I will do no such thing, so this is my best bet. Anyway, how could you possibly know how long I've trained with this?"
'Santa's' chin rose, "I know all and see all."
"You're as dense as Apollo and almost as ugly!"
"HEY!" barked the man almost deafeningly, his voice seeming to resonate both old and young at the same time and Armani could've sworn the winter sea air just got very warm.
'Santa' took several long, calming breathes, "I will have you know, young man, that Apollo is as wise as he is dashing and handsome."
"That's my point." said Armani, cocking his head.
It took 'Santa' a second to catch that it was an insult, "Oh, I will get you for that one."
Armani rose his sword up to block what appeared to be a large candy cane that 'Santa' had attacked him with.
All the same, it didn't get sliced through by his blade and Armani found himself being effortlessly pushed back, "You really should have retreated when you had the chance. This time it will be me forcing you to submit and admit defeat."
"Not...going to...happen." growled the young demigod as he was pushed almost all the way backwards.
'Santa' smirked and, parrying Armani's blade back completely and forcing him to stagger away, the old man spun into a perfect roundhouse kick that struck the demigod in the chest and sent him spinning back against an unforgiving metal bulkhead.
Armani groaned and cradled the side of his face that had hit the surface and looked up to see 'Santa' standing. He watched as the old man twirled the cane once over in his hand like he were flourishing a sword. He also did it in a way Armani found disturbingly familiar.
He smiled, "So, are you going to give up?"
"Ith snot over yet!" growled the boy.
'Santa' opened his mouth to speak, and then frowned, "Come again?"
"I thaid ith snot over yet!"
"What?"
The boy was about to respond and then his cheeks seemed to flush, and then grudgingly tapped the side of his face he was cradling, "...I bi' my thoung."
"You, you bi' your what?"
Armani rolled his eyes, "I bi' my thoung!" he growled.
'Santa' blinked, and then his cheeks twitched as he found himself trying desperately not to laugh.
He failed.
Armani glowered at the old man, "Oy! Ith not thodding funny!"
'Santa's hearty laugh turned up several octaves.
"Thath it… mad now." The demigod said, and charged the still laughing man.
'Santa' barely even had to react as his arm flicked out and batted the demigod out of the air and sent him spinning back to the floor.
'Santa's' laugh faded into a sigh, "Very well then, I suppose it's time we put an end to this."
Armani pushed himself to his feet, staggering back up to the rear support rail.
When he looked up at his opponent, he froze.
'Santa' had a bow.
A golden bow.
A golden bow that had been covered in spray-snow and decorated with holly and little bells.
Despite appearances, the frosty gold arrow nocked and aimed right at him looked lethal enough.
Armani didn't move, "You would've done well, had you actually had a weapon you could use against me."
The worst thing, Armani realised, was that he was right.
If he had had just a pair of celestial bronze tipped arrows then he might have stood a chance, instead all he had were the regular ones used for target shooting, and a sword too big for him to use.
If he didn't know any better he could've sworn Apollo had actively went out of the way to sabotage his efforts.
"You're beaten." said 'Santa' in a level tone, "Now do the wise thing and submit. Would you really want to die such a foolish death?"
The boy's cheeks flushed with shame.
There had to be a way though. Surrender was always an option but Apollo said there was always a way if you knew where to look.
Armani wasn't ready to give up. Everything screamed that there was one option open, but he couldn't figure it out.
But how?
He was backed into a corner and perfectly ranged.
Your bow
Armani's brow twitched and his eyes flicked to the discarded weapon.
It's too far away, and useless besides that.
Armani scowled as the voice repeated.
Use YOUR bow.
'Santa', sensing his hesitation shouted, "There's no way out! Learn your lesson! There is nothing you can do."
Your bow.
The voice kept repeating this, but again it wasn't so much words as it was an idea, it was screaming the concept of a bow.
No.
It was screaming the concept of his bow.
Use your bow...Idiot.
That was it; at that second, Armani's temper snapped. Between voices in his head and getting beaten, again, by the infuriating man in red, he had reached the end of his tether.
Again 'Santa' repeated slowly, "No way to win," but Armani wasn't listening to him.
Gritting his teeth he roared, "I don't have a damned bow!"
'Santa' did a double take and Armani felt it then as if his rage had pushed him to a place without thought, he felt an odd tugging sensation in his abdomen.
Call your bow.
And so... he did.
Armani opened his eyes, and concept had become form; thought had become physical.
Through his surprise at the silver bow in his hand and the already drawn silver arrow, he found the dumbfounded sight of 'Santa' with his jaw hanging open, most satisfying.
"Impossible..." mouthed the man, "It can't be..."
Armani found himself smiling, "Really? Then I suppose this won't hurt at all then."
'Santa' barely had a nanosecond longer to get over his shock as the silver bolt shot through the air towards him. He leaned back out of the way with lightning speed just as the head skimmed his cheek.
He staggered back, cursing as a small stream of golden blood seeped from the wound.
He looked back at the boy, who already had another arrow aimed at him, "You know what a hunter would say at a moment like this?" he asked.
'Santa' glanced at the blood on his hand, flicking it away before turning back to the boy, "And what is that?" he asked, retaking his aim with his own bow.
Armani cocked his head, "If it bleeds..." and he fired.
'Santa' was ready this time though. Armani found himself awed slightly as the man shot his arrow effortlessly out of the air.
Then the old man was moving, and moving fast.
He dodged left and right at speeds that were not only impossible for someone of his large size, but impossible for a human period, dodging every arrow fired at him.
He ran up the side of the wall and propelled himself into a mid-air twirl, shooting down the two arrows in mid-flight towards him and firing another, skimming the demigod's arm.
Armani hissed and took a step back, his eyes flicking away for an instant, and in that second of distraction, found 'Santa' standing somehow right behind him.
Armani froze.
"Do you know what I say in a moment like this?" he asked, raising a hand even as Armani began to move, "Beware your hubris, Armani." and at that he struck him square on the base of the neck.
The world swam around the demigod, stars spinning and he found himself falling almost in slow motion as everything went black, the image of that cut burned into his eyes.
He had cut him, he had injured him.
It was a step forwards.
Next year, Next year...
To be continued...
[A/N] Again, sorry I couldnt get this out earlier, and hope you enjoyed, it I'll try and keep the pace going if I can and hope you'll stick with me through this little bit of fun. Hope you're all having a happy holidays! Catch you next time.
See you in Chapter 5: 2004