AARYN
As he launched across the cave to the crouching Gar, Aaryn saw black—a black heart, a black life, a black, heavy world full of injustice and pain—and gave himself over to the boiling rage that screamed that nothing was fair, and no one understood. Not even Gar.
Then they hit and both of them grunted.
Knowing his Brother of the Flames weak point, Aaryn and leaped straight for Gar's right hand. When Gar had joined them for training, it was always the point any coach pushed him on. He leaned too heavily on his skill with his right and if an opponent could injure or immobilize that side, they'd have the upper hand. No pun intended.
This had flashed through Aaryn's mind as he leaped and Gar, clearly not expecting Aaryn to unleash, was slow responding, but he twisted at the last possible second, dodging in the impossibly quick way he had so Aaryn caught his forearm, but almost flew past him. Instead, as his momentum carried him past, he wrenched Gar's arm backwards and they both twisted and tumbled to the stone floor of the cave.
Gar snarled and Aaryn wondered if he would shift.
As they wrestled and punched, shoved and rolled, and Aaryn found himself scrabbling for purchase on the dusty floor of the cave, Gar's good arm around his neck and threatening to lock him in place, and for the first time Aaryn truly wondered if he would win, Aaryn found a sudden moment of clarity.
He was fighting with his brother of the flames. Over his brother's unwillingness to see his value to others.
Over his own fear of rejection.
Over both their fears for a people they loved and wanted to protect.
Aaryn twisted and something in his shoulder popped in a flare of pain, but he didn't stop, shoving the heel of his hand into Gar's chin, forcing it up, and turning, pushing them both further down the tunnel, closer to the main cave.
They rolled again, and Aaryn broke Gar's hold and scrambled to his feet, but Gar was on his back in a breath. Aaryn grunted as Gar forced his shoulder to curl, but then he dropped that shoulder and Gar—always guilty of lacking restraint—tumbled over him.
Before he could find his feet again, Aaryn grabbed his shirt and wrenched him to the side, throwing him closer again to the main cave.
"You'd fight me… because I tell you… you're important?" Aaryn panted as Gar shoved to his feet, glaring.
"I fight you because—just like my dad—you think you know me, and you don't." Lightning fast, Gar threw a jab that Aaryn, distracted by considering his words, almost missed. But he blocked the blow and turned, using his greater speed to find that right arm again and pulled Gar over his leg.
But Gar locked an arm around his middle and took Aaryn to the floor with him, both of them crashing to the stone in thwacking thuds that snapped the air out of both their lungs, and grabbed the attention of the Anima in the cave.
In a moment they had a crowd—wide-eyed females, and concerned looking males, all standing by to watch as they thrust, kicked, and parried.
Aaryn felt his lack of sleep and the stress and tension of the preceding days, but he knew what he had to do, and he wouldn't stop fighting until Gar forced him.
"If you're misjudged, Gar, that's on you," Aaryn spat. "We all try. You're hiding."
"I'm not the coward here."
"Prove it."
They circled each other while the disformed watched.
Aaryn's initial burst of anger had been replaced by a simmering sense of purpose and even though his grief increased, he knew it was right.
He knew it was necessary. For everyone involved.
"Call me a coward, Gar?" he taunted. "At least I stand up and show people what I can do. I don't hide behind the position of my family. I don't pretend I don't care when no one asks for my help."
"No, you just piss yourself like a puppy whenever my sister snaps her teeth."
There was a smattering of laughter, quickly shushed among the disformed. A pang shot through Aaryn's chest.
Would he become a laughing stock before his own people today? He prayed not.
"You have a lot of big words, Gar. But I want to see you walk the walk. Is there honor in you? Strength? Or are you all puffed chests and fancy feathers?"
Gar's upper lip curled back to reveal his teeth. "I thought you were the different one, asshole," he snapped. "But you're just another of my father's ass lickers."
There were a few gasps among the watchers, but Aaryn just smiled grimly. "See, that's where you're wrong. So blinded by your angst, you don't recognize a real leader when you see one—even in yourself."
Aaryn threw himself across the space, kicking, thrusting, jabbing and Gar was forced to give all his attention to blocking the blows as they shifted closer again to the group of disformed watching.
In other circumstances Aaryn would have enjoyed himself. It was the first time he'd ever fought Gar without holding back. The first time he let himself off the leash of training. He would have enjoyed matching wits—and strength—with Gar who so rarely did anything that required him to move quickly.
But now Aaryn was beginning to see just how formidable Gar was.
The male hadn't just been working with the disformed. The fucker had been training somehow.
Aaryn knew Gar didn't have that speed last year when they fought.
Or was he just unusually gifted and finally coming into the last of his growth? Was Gar's mind finally catching up with his body?
Aaryn didn't know, but over the following minutes, he lost focus for anything that wasn't keeping Gar's hands and feet away from his own body. The male was relentless and didn't seem to tire, despite his massive size.
Fear tingled on the back of Aaryn's neck, but he knew this served a purpose. An important one.
He also knew that unless he did something quickly, his own energy would run out and he'd lose this for real.
So he gathered himself for the final push that would take this fight to its natural conclusion.
Except, one of the females gasped and clapped her hands to her mouth and instinctively, Aaryn's eyes flickered to check her, to ensure she was okay.. And even though he caught himself and started to turn back to Gar, his head clanged like a rung bell half-a-second later when Gar's fist connected with his temple and he dropped like a stone.