Thick bolts of lightning ran through the clouds, struck the ground, and illuminated the plane with flashes of blinding light. Garwados, for whatever reason, appeared angry, spitting globules of magma and flaming rocks from towering volcanoes while drooling lava down their sides. Thunder boomed, crooned, and shrieked, echoing for miles only to join another in the great distance.
Amidst it, two figures traded blows over the craggy ground. Rakshal wielded his bou staff, Sewonga, with more confidence than he had in several months, no longer as wary of the snake god as before. Said snake still flourished his small red knife with uncanny skill and grace, rearranging the landscape with mere swings of pure power that would have given Rakshal a terrible wound—or merely slice him in two. He would know, and was thus particularly wary of said attacks. Sliding effortlessly over uneven land, he dodged and weaved, but his mentor kept him a distance away in spite of the many attempts he made to approach.
Igni, as a teacher, was unorthodox. Frankly, Rakshal wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be learning whenever he sparred with him. Their spars weren’t for nothing; through determined, close observation and occasional scolding (which usually came with a thwack on his head), he learned more than anything his mother could have taught him. She simply wasn’t a god.
She was, however, a great teacher.
Unlike the actual god before him—
A vertical hand came hard on his head.
“Ow! What?!” he demanded, going still to rub the spot.
Igni huffed, “Yer too dis’racted.” When Rakshal only frowned, he cocked his head to the side. “What’s got’cha all thinkin’ elsewheres?”
Rakshal’s upper lip slightly curled. “That you’re a terrible teach—”
A slender white brow sharply rose.
“—uh, that…I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to teach me right now.” He swung his bou over his shoulders and let his arms dangle off of it, looking off in thought. “You’ve taught me a lot, yeah…but most times I’m wondering what before I learn something new.”
“‘Ow long’s this been ‘appenin’?”
“I dunno. How long have we been here?”
“A year.”
Rakshal closed his eyes, deciding the swallow the brief flare of anger that rose within him. “Since then, I guess…” He sensed it coming but couldn’t dodge the hand that landed square in the center of his head. “Ow!” He tried and failed to swipe the large hand away.
“An’ yer only tellin’ me ‘is now?” Igni tutted, walking away. “Hm. I was taught like ‘is. Exper’ence, not all that lesson stuff.”
Lowering his hand from his head, Rakshal listened with curiosity. This was the first time he had even heard a hint of Igni having a teacher, a god older than him in his life.
After a moment of silence, Igni sighed, “So, ‘en. What’cha learn since all ‘is time?”
“Uh…” Rakshal’s lips pursed. “A…lot, honestly. Greater manipulation of items I use, like Sewonga. I can’t fly yet, but I can hover pretty well, I like to think.”
“Mm hm.”
“Finally figured out how to throw my voice. I don’t even need to think to use yousot’yu anymore; it comes so naturally, like breathing. I can create familiars, though they’re not much yet.” He crossed his arms, tucking his bou beneath them. The sound of a volcano eruption brought his attention to one such mountain. “I’m not bound to most natural elements anymore.”
“An’ yer stamina’s gotten real good, way better now. C’prob’ly go fightin’ fer hours.”
He nodded, meeting the older god’s unseen eyes. “What’s left, then?”
The smile turned crooked. “Summonin’ whatever ya want, creatin’ stuff from nothin’, and flyin’, o‘course.”
“So…not much more?”
“Not much.”
“How long might that take?”
“‘Bout ‘nother month. Ya ain’t bad, Raaki not bad t’all.”
He grinned. It then dropped after a second of thought. “Wait, then what was all that shit—”
“Language.”
“—all that I went through for the first few months?!”
The stiff smile loosened, going crooked again. “What’cha mean, Raaki?”
“You tortured me!”
A long fang peeked from above a pale lip. “Koi koi, did no such’a thing…” Igni turned around, no doubt to hide his widening smile.
“You made me fight you—YOU—for days and beat me bloody when I got tired!”
“Gods don’ git tired, Raaki.”
“Nuhuh! Nee sleeps all the time!”
“Mm, but it ain’t a real bashmut sleep.”
Rakshal opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. “Really…?” He followed behind Igni as the older god walked towards the jungle.
“Ain’t yer bro e’er tell ya all that can ‘appen when gods close ‘em eyes?”
“He did, but it was a long time ago.”
Another sigh, barely heard with the thunder overhead. “We be lookin’ like we sleepin’, even sound like it, but we ain’t really sleepin’—” Igni suddenly stopped, then turned his head to look back at him. “So. Yer a real sleeper…”
Rakshal also stopped, brows furrowing, and felt the desire to defend himself. Before he could so much as open his mouth, the older god rose a brow, slow and intensely.
“Prob’ly got it from yer ma…”
“Oi.”
Broad shoulders shrugged daintily, followed by a cool smile. “S’prob’ly true, yeah?”
With that, Igni hummed as he continued to walk. After a moment of frowning, Rakshal shook his head and followed him while muttering barely audible strings of swears.
“I can hear ya, Raaki.”
He grumbled heatedly, picking up his pace until he left Igni far behind.
Bright heterochromic eyes stared into the dark sky, idle and patient. Rakshal held his bou over his shoulders, arms dangling from the rod lazily—or so it appeared. His fingers twitched to every streak of lightning in the sky as he awaited the next attack. He knew Igni was there, somewhere in the heavens. Why he was there was beyond him; they were sparring as usual and the older god appeared as if he was readying for an attack before simply…not executing it.
For whatever reason, he had lingered in the sky for over five minutes now. But Rakshal had learned that this snake was not one to underestimate, thus he kept his wits about him and waited.
His thoughts, however, kept attempting to distract him.
Time was treacherous in Garwados. Igni said a year, one of eight in a full cycle, had passed since they arrived. He tried his damnedest not to think about it, about how much suffering his mother had to be enduring while he was helpless to do anything about it. Yet.
Just a little longer…
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, just as Igni moved. Slowly, he looked back towards the sky to see the small white figure lowering from the dark clouds. He slipped Sewonga back into his hand and waited.
“Somethin’ ‘appened.” Igni’s tense voice reached him with ease.
The older god suddenly stood before him, but his body, ready for an attack, reacted. He spun and stabbed the ground with his bou, spinning with a powerful kick propelled by the momentum. His leg made an impact, but not with Igni’s body. Not quite; Igni stood to the side with the entire circumference of Rakshal’s leg in his grasp.
Rakshal grimaced upon seeing the stern expression on the pale face. “Sorry…”
After an awkward, tense moment of nothing, Igni let him go while remaining otherwise unmoved.
He lowered his leg. “What happened?”
“Somethin’ ‘appened t’Quan.” Igni gave a curt nod when Rakshal’s eyes went wide. “M’kid’s okay; Quan made ‘im hide. Saw somethin’ real bad ‘appen through ‘is eyes. Seems ‘e got b’trayed by some’n Jak trusted…”
“Where is he now?”
“Seems them Faifeth’hai be doin’ somethin’, an’ want ‘subjects’…whate’er ‘at is.” He turned away, glancing towards the rumbling sky. “I’on’t like it. Gives a real om’nous feelin’…”
“We have to get him!” Rakshal transformed his bou into what appeared to be a tube he placed in a pants’ pocket.
“Nah, s’too late.”
Glaring, he demanded, “Is that really true?”
Slowly, Igni met his gaze. A dangerous, thin smile spread on his face. “I’mma lotta bad things, Raaki…but I ain’t no liar.”
“Then why can’t we help him, even if it’s ‘too late’? Don’t you want to help? If the Faifeth’hai is involved, who the fuck knows what they’ll do to him!”
A disapproving frown flashed at him, but he ignored it, readying to run to the jungle to get his things and retrieve Goku.
Igni stood in front of him, wearing a wide smile that was as menacing as it was a threat.
Bristling, Rakshal softly growled. “So, you’ll let Quan suffer from whatever the empire does to him?”
Igni’s expression darkened. “Gotta keep trainin’ ya, Raaki. Yer still too weak.” He kept Rakshal pinned with his expression. “‘F ya care all ‘at much, put all ‘at rage an’ hate fer th’ Faifeth’hai in yer trainin’.”
“Answer the damn question.”
His lips tightened. “It ain’t m’respons’bility.”
“You might not be a liar…but you are lying.”
He turned towards the jungle. “Take a break. Go cool yer head.”
Rakshal’s hands tightened into fists. Thunder rumbled overhead in accordance with his anger, causing the older god to come to a slow stop.
“You don’t want me to go?” he murmured, reaching for his weapon. “Stop me.” He elongated his bou, holding it at the ready.
Igni’s body rose and fell. His head tilted to the side. “Ya don’ wanna do ‘is, Raaki,” he sang, voice hissing. “S’gona hurt real bad...”
“Bite me,” Rakshal spat.
The words just left his mouth when two massive scythelike blades attached to chains slipped from Igni’s hands, hitting the ground with a heavy, metallic clang and loud rattling.
An anticipatory smirk formed on Rakshal’s face, his tail flicking behind him.
Finally. His actual weapons.
A heartbeat passed, followed by a shriek of thunder.
Then came the lightning and the glint of a fang, along with a flash of two bloodred lights.
Startled, Rakshal had less than a second to spot the blade. He jumped back, gliding over the ground, while staring two sharp edges in the eye. Sensing a boulder behind him, he barely had a moment to dodge the blades with a quick step to the side. The boulder remained unmoved as the chained ends sliced clean through it.
That would have split him in two—no, four.
Igni’s serious.
He growled, watching the blades drag menacingly over the ground as they somehow returned to Igni’s grasp. The snake himself crouched atop an even larger mound of rock and dirt, his smile the widest Rakshal had ever seen it. And the most menacing.
“Careful ‘ere, Raaki. I git real excited when I use m’Jarta,” Igni chuckled, a prevalent hiss in his voice.
Rakshal scoffed, twirling Sewonga in one hand. “Yeah, you seem the type to get nice and hard over such a weapon—” A mouthful of blood flooded his mouth as a deep slice split his cheek open. “Fuck—!”
He went low to avoid the following chain, then swiftly weaved without a moment to breathe as it danced around him. His instincts screamed that he did not want the chains to touch him, let alone land a hit.
Though the laceration healed, his cheek still smarted. Spitting blood to the ground, he took to the sky and hovered in place in the attempt to orient himself.
Igni rose from the mound into the air. As he did, Rakshal observed how the blades didn’t follow him. His eyes narrowed. He could chance it or…test the waters first.
“Think care’f’ly, Raaki…”
The singsong voice was really beginning to piss him off. As Igni ascended, he shot his bou at him.
Chains snaked out, reaching for it on their own accord. As it came closer to its target, Rakshal expected a dodge.
Instead, seconds from impact, Igni caught the staff with his bare hand. Rakshal called it back, and the muscles in Igni’s arms tensed and bulged before he finally let go. As the staff returned, Rakshal jumped forward, weaved through chains, and grabbed it.
He and Igni clashed, to his surprise, as the massive scythelike blades had returned to his hands. A fanged smirk flashed at him, and his insides flared with sudden anger in response.
“Is this fucking funny?” he snarled, rapidly trading blows with the older god’s scythes in midair.
A kick sent him to the ground. He recovered easily, skidding over a few paces of land and scowled when another pearlywhite smile beamed at him with amusement.
In the split second he blinked, Igni was atop him, one of his massive scythes clashing against Sewonga. The other scythe was missing, and Rakshal’s senses alerted him to an oncoming attack from behind. Unfortunately, Igni was heavy, and feeling the full weight of him was enough to make Rakshal grimace.
With barely a moment to spare, he switched himself with a doppelganger. It took both blows from above and behind while he jumped out of the way. As dust kicked up from the attack, he took several more jumps back. Chains emerged from the dust, and he easily twirled his bou to knock them away.
They retreated into the dust, cutting it away to reveal Igni thrusting his scythes into the ground. They disappeared, shortly followed by a soft rumble from below. Rakshal had seconds to realize it, but couldn’t move in time.
Chains emerged from the from beneath him like hydra heads, forcing him back and chasing him over the ground. He nearly yelped when one or two nearly cut into his back, not brave enough to face them headon. They were just too fast.
“Raaki~”
He turned forward.
A large hand grabbed his throat, choking him from the force of his momentum, and another hand jammed itself into his abdomen. He hissed in pain as chains knocked Sewonga out of his grasp.
“Yer still too weak, Raaki,” the older god enunciated, shaking his head.
Rakshal quickly devolved into a panic as the hand around his neck tightened. “Ccan’t…br…breathe!” he choked out. “Ig…Ig—!”
“Gods don’t gotta breathe.”
He grasped the large wrist, but the claws twisted inside him again. “Ffuck…!”
Igni abruptly threw him to the ground. He inhaled hard and started coughing while clutching his wounded abdomen.
“Lemme learn ya somethin’, Raaki…”
Peeking an eye open, he watched Igni eye the blood on his hand with morbid curiosity and undeniable hunger.
“Gods don’ worry ‘bout bashmut. It just ain’t somethin we ought t’do. Ain’t ne’er work ‘n our favor…” Swallowing hard, Igni brought his bloodied hand to his mouth, and his tongue flicked out. He visibly shivered, quickly dropping it to his side. “Once y’git strong ‘nough t’elp yerself…ya do as y’want, yeah?”
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Rakshal let his head fall back, breathing hard. “I thought…you wanted a friend?” he managed before groaning. “Why won’t you fight for them?!”
The slightest of frowns formed on Igni’s face.
“Do you even know what a friend is?”
Head tilting to the side, Igni appeared to ponder. After a moment of silence, save for Rakshal’s soft panting, he shook his head and looked away. “Nah, nobody like Quan’d ever care fer some’n like lil’ o’ me.”
Swallowing, Rakshal looked towards the sky. The heavens rumbled and grumbled overhead. “Yes…he could. Friends are people you fight for, with…Laugh with. Drink with…” His expression softened. “Die for.”
He let his eyes close when the silence between them continued. His wound had healed, but he felt strangely exhausted.
Finally, Igni sighed heavily, bringing his attention to him. The older god had turned around, his back facing Rakshal, and his head tilted back. Long white hair, perfectly kempt in complete opposite to Rakshal’s, swayed when he shook his head.
“M’only doin’ ‘is ‘cause I trust yer bro, Raaki…”
Blinking, Rakshal slowly sat up.
A small smile, pained and tight, turned to him. “Told Jak ‘bout what ‘appened.” He shrugged. “Said ‘e’ll check on it. We jus’ stay put.”
It was better than nothing. Managing a smile that mirrored the snake’s, Rakshal sat upright, resting his hands on the ground. “Shiayni,” he muttered.
Waving his bloody hand dismissively, Igni walked away. “Git cleaned up. We’ll take a break…”
The older god disappeared before Rakshal could say anything else. Lowering his head, he looked at his wound, or where it had been. Blood still stained his hand that had clutched it.
He shut his eyes, falling back as defeat and concern gnawed at his psyche.
AFTER THE CHAPTER
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