[A/N] And so the festive period is over, the decorations are away and things slowly return to normal, hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and are rearing to go for the new year. Seems this fic is still in the festive mood though, and so let's continue…
Broken Bow: The 12 Years of Christmas
Chapter 9: 2011 (Part 2)
"What?" Gaped Aren for what must've been the fourth time.
Armani began pacing slowly, keeping his eyes up as the sleigh turned sideways and began a slow vertical decent until it hung silently in the air above the condo, it's occupant's head held high as he looked down on the boy.
"Santa Claus, "said Armani, "…my mortal enemy."
"WHAT?"
"How many times are you going to say that word? And please close your mouth." asked Armani absently as he switched his sword from hand to hand whilst pacing.
She looked at the boy incredulously, "To be honest I think I'm somewhat entitled to my reaction. And what are you talking about; Mortal enemy?"
He shrugged, "Well, I say mortal…"
"That's not what I meant and you—"
"Ahem!" coughed the old man, who was drumming his fingers on the edge of his sleigh.
Armani blinked, "Right. Sorry about that. I suppose we should get down to it."
'Santa' inclined his head, "We probably should."
"Wait, wait, wait," Butted in Aren, "Does anyone want to tell me what's going on here?"
Armani cocked his head, "He comes every Christmas Eve, gives me a present, we fight to see how much I've improved, and then he leaves."
Aren 's eyebrows went up, "You say that like it's a normal thing! And, what, you do this every year?"
Surprisingly to Aren, the boy was quiet, as was the man in red. They seemed to have a silent exchange; a mutual understanding. After the brief pause, Armani spoke, "No. This will be the last time."
The old man smiled and, without another word, retrieved a very festive looking golden sword from his sack.
"Armani, you can't seriously be considering fighting an old—" the man then leapt out of his sleigh into a double forward somersault and landed in a crouch before drawing himself up to full height and flourishing his blade expertly in the air, "—man." She let out a long, exasperated breath, "It's going to be one of those nights, isn't it?"
Armani cocked his head, "Pretty much….Sorry."
Aren's eyes widened as she regarded the badly disguised sword in the old man's hand, "But that's… It can't be." Her eyes flicked up to the sleigh and back at the man. She turned to Armani as he advanced on his enemy, "Armani, stop! That's not really Santa –and I can't believe I'd ever have to say that to you—It's…"
"Aren!" Armani snapped probably more harshly than he intended and he looked at her for a moment.
Realisation struck in her. He already knows, then why—
As if reading her thoughts, the old man spoke, "How long have you known?" he asked of the young demigod.
Armani smiled, "Why don't you tell me."
'Santa' smirked, "You've been hiding your thoughts from me since you were seven. I really can't be sure."
Armani's smile twitched into a smirk, "Then I guess that'll just be my little secret, especially since I know how much not knowing something drives you mad. Regardless, let's get this moving."
The old man sighed, "Yes. So then, boy. Tell me; have you been good this year?"
Armani began a slow semi-circle in front of him, still flicking his sword from hand to hand, "Why don't you come and see how good I've become?"
"In good time…" He replied, and then reached slowly into his bag. He whipped his hand out quickly, Aren flinching into a fighting stance, to retrieve a trio of parcels, "For you and your two housemates." He snapped his finger and they vanished, "And now they're under the tree."
Armani inclined his head, "Thank you, Santa." He said politely, "Now where were we?"
"Right about here—"
-A-
I was somewhat surprised by 'Santa's' sudden attack, but I was fast enough to whip my sword around into a guard, but I did end up having to brace my heel down to keep the blade away.
"Not bad, boy. Just last year I could've broken your arm with that strike."
I ground my teeth as he applied more pressure, "Yeah, well… One can but…try! " I grunted and bashed my forehead off the old man's.
To be honest this did more damage to me than my enemy, but it startled him enough for me to pivot about and kick him away to a safe distance.
We're near the forest, under the full moon and it's the dead of night… perhaps I might just have a chance…
Don't. Don't fight as if you're sure you can win!
'Santa' had staggered to a halt with his hand on his face, "Again between the damned eyes…"
Obviously irritated, he crossed the distance between us with a blur of golden light. His blow wasn't as strong, but he had obviously decided speed was probably better than brute strength.
"Tell me, old man…" I said, my hand moving on its own to block slash after slash as he pushed me to the edge of the roof, "…is it just me, or have you gotten weaker in the past year?" I said as I ducked under his guard and shoulder barged him forwards, leaning back and punching him once square in the chest.
You're getting overconfident. Keep your guard up!
He let out a wheezing gasp and raised his blade again, "Well tell me, boy, has your skill increased to match your overconfidence?" he said with a growl as he spun about into a low slash at my lower legs. I leapt effortlessly over it only for him to catch me in the gut with his boot and send me spinning to across the rooftop.
My hand lashed up and caught on the edge as I swung over the side, my other catching my blade from the air.
I groaned as I felt 'Santa' press his boot onto my hand and I looked up to find the tip of his blade touching into my knuckle, "I suppose not." said the old man in answer to his own question.
I smiled, "You're the overconfident one…"
He frowned, "Meaning what?"
"That the sum of my combat ability doesn't just exist in me anymore."
He probably would've asked what I meant, but it was quite redundant as Aren had just rammed into him from the left side and sent him flying to the floor.
I swung left and flipped myself back onto the roof, Aren helping to steady my, "Thank you. I was wondering when you'd choose to join the fun."
She sighed, "If you're going to be insane, I may as well be by your side when it happens."
'Santa' cursed under his breath as he pulled himself up, "Really shouldn't have turned my back on that one. So… Two on one is it?"
Aren glowered at him, "We always fight together. Even if Armani demanded I didn't get involved, you really didn't think I'd just stand there, did you?"
"One armed and one unarmed. Your lack of a defence will make you a liability, Aren." said the old man, just before the Huntress reached down the front of her top and pulled free a sheathed dagger.
'Santa' blinked, "Well, didn't see that one coming…and I rarely say that."
Aren responded by drawing her dagger and, with a flick of her wrist, hurled the sheath at 'Santa's' face.
The old man's hand shot up and grabbed it out of the air, smirking, "You really think I'd get hit in the same spot—" I cut him off by using his distraction to close the distance between us and give him a nasty gash on his arm.
He took a few steps back as Aren leapt over my back and into an overhead slash with her dagger.
With a roar, 'Santa' lashed out with his arm and slammed her down into the felted surface. "Enough of this—" Again the old man was unable to finish as Aren cut him off, this time with a very nastily placed upward kick to 'Santa's' groin.
Even I winced there.
It also dropped 'Santa' to his knees.
Aren slipped free and leapt back to her feet, backing up to my side, "Oh, Aren…" I said, shaking my head.
"What?" she asked.
I pointed at the man, "Low blow, my dear…"
She merely shrugged, "Am I supposed to care?"
I heard a guttural growl come from the old man as he spoke up, his voice back in its younger form and the winter air began to feel distinctively warmer, "Oh, you will." snarled the man.
"Aren" I said, "Back away…"
'Santa' raised his gaze up, teeth bared and eyes nothing more than pools of blazing light.
Not good…
He flung a hand out at Aren and a streamer of golden light shot from his palm which materialised into ropes that instantly bound the Huntress ' arms and legs tightly. The Huntress cried out with shock and anger as she fell to the floor.
I moved to help her, but 'Santa' was already on his feet, groaning slightly, "I say we play a new game." Said the man, his voice undisguised still, "I call it: Save the girl." Aren's bound form rose a few feet into the air and the ropes glowed, a semi-translucent barrier forming about her.
I tapped the pommel of my sword of it and had to recoil back when a burst of flame nearly burned my hand off.
I raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the man, "'Save the girl'? Eloquent as always."
He smiled, "You always do fight at your best when something's on the line. Rules go like this: You beat me however you choose, and I let the girl go and it's forever your victory against me."
"And if I lose."
He shrugged, "I still let the girl go, but it will be forever your loss and you'll have to live with the memory that, if this had been a real battle, you'd have lost the one closest to your heart as a result."
I gritted my teeth, "Kind of low if you ask me."
He scowled, "One low blow for another. I'm calling us even." His eyes flicked sideways, "Oh, and tell your little wood nymph friend sneaking up behind me that if she tries to ensnare me, her roots are going to get a very nasty singeing."
I shrugged, "Really? You could probably tell her yourself…"
'Santa' rolled his eyes, "I was trying to be dramatic."
"Melodramatic," I corrected, "and tried and failed."
I saw Lya lean about 'Santa' , "Umm, does this mean I don't fight?"
I sighed, "No, Lya. Just sit by Aren and cheer me on."
She smiled, "Will do." And so she weaved about the old man, stopping only to stick her tongue out at him before jogging over to sit next to the Hunter.
'Santa' narrowed his eyes at me, "Now then, I think it's time we put an end to—"
"Boo fat man!"
"Wait for the fight to start, Lya…"
"Sorry…"
"To Hades with it, I'm just going to start attacking you."
And he did. Only this time I remembered the feeling from last year and all those years previous, knowing what I was going up against and that feeling of being totally outclassed. Only he had made one mistake. He had told me to consider my friends lives to be in danger.
And so I did.
As we exchanged flurries of blows and slashes, I wasn't tiring, the full moon and proximity to the forest (which was amplified thanks to Lya's tree) was like a constant burst of adrenalin, fuelling me onwards.
He wasn't overpowering me. No, I could keep his monstrous strength nearly at bay.
But still he was beating me. It wasn't even a matter of speed any more. I could keep up with his blindingly fast moves, but still he got in his nicks and cuts.
Blows were still landing and the bruises were building, and finally it hit me…
I…can't beat him.
Really, considering you're not planning on giving up, I find that an odd thing to say.
No… He's fast, and I know his moves. But I can only match his speed. I can't match his reaction times though. He's a god, his thoughts move instantly. As fast as I can go he'll always have his counter ready.
And I'm assuming you have a plan to counter this else you wouldn't be talking to me whilst fighting him. Watch out for that mid-level strike.
I saw it. The thing is, even using my instinct subconsciously to keep my reaction times to a minimum, there's still a break and pause when he can take advantage. I need to eliminate hesitation.
Then just listen to me without question.
Impossible, as long as I'm in control I question everything before agreeing to it. It's in my nature.
I'd sigh if it were possible, so what's your point?
My point is I can't beat him because of that gap in reaction. He never stops moving, even to think. I come close to that, but there's still a gap.
I said I follow, so I'll ask again: What is your point?
You don't follow, and I made my point: I said that I can't beat him
And I said—
I Can't beat him.
There was a long silence in my head and was only dimly aware of the sounds of clashing swords.
…No.
No, what?
I'm not doing it.
But I—
I am NOT assuming control just to assist with your petty vendetta with him.
What? Scared you'll lose?
I have no ego to bruise, Armani. So don't even try.
Then why are you hesitating to help?
…
Wow, I actually just beat you in an argument for once.
Oh, shut up…
Don't tell me to—
You tell me to all the time!
That's different!
How?
….Look, are you going to help or not? At best you can level the playing field against him and that's all I ask. Though I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't push my body too hard. Besides, you heard what he said: If this were a real battle…I'd lose her.
I hate you… I really do.
No you don't.
Oh, be silent, and as for pushing your body too far, I know your limits. What happened that time was a one off…As will this be. Never ask this of me again.
"You seem a bit distracted, Armani." said 'Santa' with a smirk as he bashed away at his opponent's guard, the demigod himself having been on nothing more than a defensive for the past few minutes. The man in red flicked the boy's sword up and kicked him flat in the chest and shouldered him to the floor. Before he could roll away 'Santa' pinned him down with a foot to the chest, "You'll never win this way." He said to the unresponsive boy who lay with his eyes closed.
'Santa' twirled his blade over in his hand and prepared to give the boy a nasty wound in his shoulder. And, as he swung it into a strike, the boy's hand shot up and caught the naked blade between his thumb and forefinger. If the demigod felt any discomfort as the sword cut down into his skin between the fingers, then he did not show it.
"W-wha…" began 'Santa' as the boy's grip tightened and, eyes still closed, leaned back and kicked him once in the chest, hard. The old man choked and pulled back, not before the boy could get three more rapid kicks in with both his left and right feet that lifted the man off the ground slightly and sent him staggering back halfway across the roof.
'Santa's' hand went to his chest and he looked up as the boy leaned back into his shoulders and flipped himself straight onto his feet. The demigod seemed to sway slightly before halting.
He lifted his injured hand to his face and quickly licked the wound clean, before letting the appendage fall limply to his side.
'Santa' observed the boy's aura, which had been alternating between a light glow and flame-like form up until now, change into a thick, river-like flow around his outline.
The boy finally opened his eyes.
'Santa' took another step back.
A pair of elongated pupils regarded 'Santa' with a cold, alien intelligence as a tiny smile graced the boy's features as he cocked his head, and said in a voice echoing with a slight female undertone, "Okay, Santa…Time for a new game."
To be continued…
[A/N] And so we conclude this little issue. Sorry it took a few more days to come out, but new years kind of got in the way. I'll do my best to be with you again as soon as possible. The tale grows towards a close.
Catch you in Chapter 10: 2011 (Part 3)