Savitar smiled. "That's why the first thing I want to teach you is fighting."
"Why fighting?"
Savitar laughed as they walked. "Because you're going to need it. There's a war coming, Acheron, and you have to be prepared for it."
"A war? What kind of war?"
Savitar refused to answer. Instead, he shook Simi awake. "Little one, I need you to return to your akri and stay on him while he fights. Don't worry though, it's only pretend fighting. No need for you to come off him to protect him."
Simi nodded sleepily before she obeyed. She drifted onto Acheron's arm.
"Move up, Simi," Savitar said to her. "Go to his neck where you won't be hit."
Acheron frowned at his orders. "Can she feel a blow when she's on my skin?"
"Yes, she can. And if she's stabbed while she's there and it wounds you, it will wound her too. Guard your demon, boy."
The next thing Acheron knew, they were alone on a beach. "Takeshi!" Savitar shouted.
Black smoke roiled out of the earth.
Acheron stepped back as the smoke cleared to reveal a man in armor the likes of which he'd never seen before. Blood red, it was made of shining metal. Wickedly carved blades curved up over his shoulders while a neck piece came up to cover the lower part of his face. All that could be seen were his eyes and the red scrollwork tattoo that was drawn across his forehead.
His black hair was tinged with red tips. His eyes slanted exotically like a feral cat and they were a deep, blood red. But the moment those eyes fastened on Savitar, they lightened with friendship. The metal around his neck folded down from his handsome face to show a man no more than a year or two older than Acheron.
"Savitar-san," he greeted with a crooked grin. "It's been a long time."
Savitar inclined his head to him. "And I'm calling in a favor."
With one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, Takeshi tsked as he looked about the beach. "Sav, you can't keep doing this. I'm running out of places to put the bodies."
Savitar laughed. "Nothing like that." He stepped back to allow the two of them to size each other up. "Takeshi, meet Acheron. Acheron this is Takeshi-sensei. Listen to him and he'll teach you to fight in ways you can't imagine."
Takeshi narrowed his gaze on Acheron. "You would have me train a new god?"
Savitar leaned in and whispered something to Takeshi that he couldn't hear.
Takeshi nodded. "As you wish, brother." Stepping toward Acheron, Takeshi smiled and knocked the staff out of Acheron's hands. He let out a long sigh of disappointment. "I have much to teach you. Come and learn the art of war from the one who invented it."
Cocky, Acheron went with him-after all, he was a god now, surely he could fight. At least that's what he thought until Takeshi pinned him to the ground with a move so fast, he hadn't even realized the man had gone into motion until Acheron was face down in the sand.
"Never take your eyes off your opponent," Takeshi said before he moved back and allowed Acheron to rise. "And never think you don't have to work for a victory. Even now, you could surprise me."
Acheron frowned.
Takeshi rolled his eyes. "Surprise me, Atlantean. Attack. This isn't a dance party."
Acheron went for him and again, he landed face down in the sand. "You know, this isn't building my confidence. In fact, I think I'm just going to lie here for a bit and take in some sun."
Takeshi laughed, then patted him on the back. "Get up, Acheron." He looked over to where Savitar was now sitting on a rock watching them. "He doesn't anger easily. This is good."
Acheron laughed bitterly. "Yes, I'm more of a simmer slowly until it boils over and ruins everything, kind of man."
Takeshi turned back to Acheron and handed him his staff. "Just remember, anger is always your enemy. You must keep your emotions in check. The moment you lose control of them, you lose the fight every time."
Acheron twirled the staff around and brought it into a defensive block.
Takeshi tsked at him. "Always be the attacker. A defender never wins."
"Defenders get their asses kicked," Savitar said. "Trust me. I've got crack impressions on every pair of shoes I own."
Takeshi arched a brow at Savitar. "Do you want to teach him?"
"Not really."
"Then shut up or grab a sword and come help."
The humor fled Savitar's face. "Is that a challenge?"
"It would be if I didn't know for a fact that you're too lazy to rise to one."
"Lazy? Mesoula?"
"Eqou," Takeshi taunted.
Savitar flashed from the rock, to stand before Takeshi with a sword the likes of which Acheron had never seen before. He brought it down across Takeshi's vambrace. The next thing he knew, the two of them were at war.
Takeshi scoffed. "Ah, you fight like a sissy demon."
"Sissy demon? Have you ever met a sissy demon?"
"I killed three this morning."
Savitar swung at his throat. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the man's adam's apple.
Feeling neglected, but grateful he wasn't in the middle of this titanic brawl, Acheron went to sit on the rock Savitar had vacated.
Savitar shoved Takeshi back. "Your mother was a goatherder."
"It's an honorable profession."
"Yeah for a goat."
Takeshi swung around and kicked Savitar away. Savitar flipped over and came back with an upstroke that barely missed gutting him.
Takeshi shook his head. "Have you been drinking this morning? How did you miss me? I swear I've fought old women with better reflexes."
"The fact you fight old women tells me just how rusty you've become. What? Your ego needed the boost and they were the only ones you could find you could beat?"
"Savitar, Savitar, Savitar. At least I won. Wasn't it you who had to cry to the counsel to come save your ass from an attack of a four-year-old?"
Savitar gaped in feigned anger. "Four-year-old . . . tarranine demon. Don't forget the most important part. Those bastards are hatched full grown and it wasn't just one. It was a swarm of them."
"So you admit you had help?"
"Oh that's it, sensei. You're tasting sand . . ."
Acheron shook his head at their bantering. While they were being harsh to each other, there was a good-natured spirit that let him know they didn't mean a word of it. It was as if they were sparring with words the same way they were sparring with their swords.
Honestly, they amazed him. He'd never had a friend he could do that with. He envied them that.