Chapter 9: Learning to Fight

 

"AGAIN!" The centaur barked as Odysseus fell into the sand on all fours.

Out of breath, covered in bruises, and sweating profusely, Odysseus shot a glare up at his mentor. The demi-human holding a twelve-foot wooden spear dulled at the edges in his palm. At the edge of the sand pit, Claire sat, the huntress eating jerky and occasionally jeering at Odysseus. 

"POOR FORM!" Claire called out, holding up a sign that had a zero written on it.

Odysseus caught his breath and rose to his feet, picking up his own wooden spear in the process.

"A spear is for thrusting and maintaining distance with your foe. Not wacking." Chiron chastised, the centaur circling Odysseus. "It is an ancient weapon of coordination and discipline. Precision. Thrust, not slash. The weapon you wield is not a naginata or a halberd."

Odysseus tracked the centaur as he picked up speed, the old mentor's walk turning into a gallop around Odysseus.

With both hands tightening around the spear he held, Odysseus grit his teeth as the sand around the pit kicked up from the demi-human's movement, creating a smokescreen that entrapped Odysseus.

*Fuck.*

His eyes rapidly darted left and right, attempting to use both sight and sound to track the centaur, yet both failed, the continued galloping blending in with the sound of sand to obscure both his hearing and sight.

Damn it! What do I do?!

Should he move? Or stand his ground? Here he had stable footing, a well-balanced stance and could react with his weapon, but at the same time, he could barely see. If he moved into the whirlwind he may well be trampled or worse, speared with no time to counterattack thanks to his weapon’s size.

Then he came, the centaur charging from the sand to cast a black shadow over Odysseus who spun and gawked as the teacher’s large body threatened to run him down.

Acting swiftly, Odysseus leapt to the side, hitting the dirt with a roll before hastily climbing to his feet with weapon raised, his breathing calm and collected, a far cry from his heart pounding in his head.

Left. 

A warning, one that spun Odysseus to the left just in time to lift his spear upwards and deflect the weapon flying out of the sand at him.

It flew, spinning in the air rapidly and taking Odysseus’s attention away from the shadow on his right.

“GAH!?!”

-6HP

A blunt object hit his side forcefully, dispelling the air from Odysseus’s lungs and sending him to the ground coughing and gasping.

“Y-y-you… you threw your weapon… how do you…” Odysseus wheezed.   

“Do you know what you did wrong?” Chiron asked, standing over the boy with a spear in his hand. “First, you assumed this would be a fair fight. That I would only use one weapon. In warfare, there is no such thing as fairness in bloodshed and battle.”

Odysseus clutched his aching ribcage, noticing he had lost six HP from that blow alone. “I think… I think you broke my ribs.”

“Second, you hesitated.” Chiron continued, ignoring the boy’s groans of pain. “Allowing your visibility to be obscured. You were at a disadvantage and didn’t attempt to even the playing field, perpetuating my advantage.”  

“You’re faster. Stronger, and have more reach and range than me. How am I supposed to fight you?” Odysseus hissed in annoyance upon Claire in the distance holding up her sign that said ZERO!

“The spear is an anti-cavalry and monster weapon, designed to be used against large foes and mounted warriors and used by many a great hero of old.” Chiron explained, helping Odysseus to his feet before muttering odd words that ended with the boy’s injuries being healed and the pain alleviated. "It is not the fault of the weapon but the wielder. Your hesitation and indecisiveness could very well be your downfall. While a tactile mind that considers many avenues of victory is well-applauded, it is useless if they are never applied. Be bold, but not rash Odysseus."

"Bold not rash huh..." Odysseus replied, his eyes downcast at his hands that were swollen. It had been a couple of hours since he and the centaur had begun training. The pair going through various weapons and stances, styles of fighting before Odysseus opted to learn how to use and practice with every weapon laid out. Much to the old mentor's disapproval of course.

"Continue." Odysseus replied, taking his spear and adopting a stance. 

 

Chiron sighed. "Very well."

 

The centaur backed away, giving Odysseus space. 

“Again.” 

Odysseus’s eyes shot wide, the centaur taking off immediately with no warning. 

“Bold not rash.” Odysseus muttered, tracking Chiron who galloped and stopped just shy of Odysseus’s spear range.  With his superior strength and height, Chiron spun, jabbing at Odysseus with his spear extended who narrowly managed to dodge the attack that grazed his ear.

Wincing, Odysseus shot forward, weapon aimed at Chiron's turned side, ready to thrust. Yet, the moment he did the centaur’s back legs kicked, propelling the demi-human back and reorienting the centaur to face Odysseus squarely with spear raised.

Shit. Back to square one and nothing to show for it save for a bloodied ear.

Odysseus grit his teeth and circled the Chiron whose front human legs kicked at the dirt.

He's going to charge.

Chiron galloped forward, spear raised, immediately Odysseus backpedaled and reached into his pocket, grabbing hold of the sand he placed there upon hitting the ground before the match. 

The teen’s hand went up, throwing sand into the centaur’s eyes and causing the demi-human to wince long enough for Odysseus to pivot to the side and hit the centaur in the square in his clothes chest.

Chiron blinked, wiping his sand covered face with a smile.

“Nicely done.” Chiron said.

“Thank you.” Odysseus smirked before Chiron reared on his hindlegs and kicked Odysseus, sending him flying across the sandpit.

 

***

Two days later, battered, bruised, and out of breath, Odysseus lay alone in the sand pit admiring the light blue sky above that hung over him.

Around him, the sandpit was stained in blood, broken weapons, and destroyed dummies from Chiron's training.

Now, was a rare moment that he was allowed to rest and eat, a small reprieve from the constant training.

At least until Claire stood over him. 

“Pretty.” Odysseus muttered, causing the redhead to roll her eyes.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” The huntress said.

“I wasn't talking about you.” Odysseus replied, causing the woman to adopt an insincere offended look.

“What then?”

“Take a look at what I'm looking at.” Odysseus said, patting the sand beside him and causing the girl to raise a brow. “Come on.”

“Fine. Whatever, I've got time to kill.” Claire shrugged, taking off her bow and laying on the sand beside Odysseus.

“... What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Are we not looking at the same thing?”

“What? The sky?”

“Yeah…”

A moment passed with the pair laying in silence before Claire sighed.

“You're weird.” Claire said, rising to her feet and dusting sand off of herself. “What kind of world do you come from anyway? You aren't from earth.”

“Hm? I am.” Odysseus replied, the woman cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. 

“Earth doesn't have acid rains that boil your skin.” Claire said with skepticism.

“Uh… yes it does.” Odysseus said back, thinking for a moment if he was wrong. 

No. I'm definitely right!

“What kind of earth do you come from?”

“The kind run by robots and the rich?”

Claire opened her mouth, the woman preparing a rebuke but pausing. “Eh, maybe you are from earth.”

“Do they not have acid showers where you're from?” Odysseus asked, sitting up with curiosity clear in his eyes.

“No. Wait. What year is it where you come from?” Claire asked.

“2402?”

Claire's jaw dropped. 

“Twe-twenty-oh-two?” Claire said, frowning. “It's 2017 for me.”

 

“Huh…”

“Huh.”

 

The two stared at one another. 

“So do…” Odysseus began. “Do I… Do I call you grandma now?”

“Oh shut up!” Claire hissed. “Get up on your feet, we've got training to do.”

“More? I thought I'd get to eat first?” Odysseus frowned. 

“You will, but Chiron wants me to see if you can pick up archery. So before I leave he wants me to train you as part of me giving back and community service.” Claire said, helping Odysseus up.

She paused, eyeing the man whose body had begun to fill out, at least a little. He was still skinny but not looking as deathly pale thanks to four square meals a day.

“When do you leave?” Odysseus asked with a frown. 

“In two days.” 

“So you've been here for five?”

“Yup.” Claire said, climbing out of the pit before turning to extend a hand to Odysseus. 

“Wait, why aren't you being made to train and learn stuff?” Odysseus asked, taking the woman's gloved hand.

“I'm from the south and my dad's an army ranger.” Claire laughed, her words lost on Odysseus. “Not much to teach me on survival.”

Claire led Odysseus through the camp, walking past their cabins until the pair were in a clearing with straw dummies and buckets filled with arrows beside a table. 

“You ever shot a bow before?” Claire asked, grabbing a wooden short bow.

“I-” Odysseus began before another vision interrupted his voice, this one of the sapphired-eyed man standing over a corpse with an arrow in its eye. In his hands he held a golden bow, one adorned with rainbow feathers. “No.”

“Well you're gonna learn today.” Claire said, handing Odysseus the bow. “Hopefully this goes better than the axe fiasco.”

The weapon in his hands was smooth, expertly crafted wooden bow with a string made of orange sinew.

His hand tightened around the bow, an odd sense of dejavu taking him as he admired the craftsmanship.

“Are you ready?”

“Huh?” Odysseus said, shaking from his stupor to look at the woman.

“I said are you ready?” 

For an unknown reason Odysseus’s face was twisted, an evil grin taking over.

“Yeah.”