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All Myths Are True
Chapter 13: Barely a Warm Up

Chapter 13: Barely a Warm Up

— Well, it seems like I might have underestimated you, Oli —

Breathed Him out

I was able to see it in his face, clear and loud, although only for a moment. He was caught by surprise, I had caught him by surprise. The moment I pulled out the Hex, denying his attack, was the moment in which our encounter became a real fight.

Till then, it had been like if a fly tried to fight a storm, or a fish to change the flow of the sea. Useless and one-sided, a being trapped in something it cannot understand.

Now I was able to fight back, but don't get me wrong, I wasn't celebrating just yet.

Till that moment, I had only been able to use that Hex to push objects from one side to another, being allured by the vision of some of them levitating.

To use it as a defense was, on this occasion, more a gamble than a true science. That meant that I had survived this time only by luck, and not a feat of strength.

I was scared as shit at that very moment.

— Does that mean you surrender? —

I joked, sweating cold in my shoes.

— Oh not at all, it just means the warm-up has ended —

He answered, as something I didn’t find funny at all, but that I was expecting. And that was due to the third, and last card under my sleeve. One of which you should already know of.

You see, the only reason I began to test other types of Hexes and their effects, to begin with, was the fact that they all had a counter to my plan. I wasn’t able to activate them from the inside without being affected by their commands.

If Hexes could ignore their source, meaning I, then it would’ve been another story.

Instead, I had to find a way to lead Him into my trap, being stealthy enough not to be discovered, and only then... find a way to pull out of it alive.

The obvious answer I could think of at that moment was to become better at handling Hexes, and hence in Sympathy itself.

Having understood that, the rest was a matter of testing Hexes till I had a functioning hand of them, and brainstorming a plan. Following him, and extorting him to meet at the playgrounds, where it wouldn’t be uncommon to see lines forming geometrical shapes under your feet came as a “bright idea”. The plan was to create a situation where I could trick him into my grounds, one where I had an advantage, and hopefully, one where I could shift the balance in my favor.

That's how I ended up fighting dangerously close to a tramp that could kill me too if I wasn't careful enough. Something that somehow still seemed better than facing a creature that would certainly kill me if I had the chance.

Ironically enough at that moment, and having proof to him that I was able to fight, the next best movement I could think of was to run. Far enough so I could safely activate the Hex from outside, trapping him inside. The problem? was to do it without him noticing, so I needed to mislead him as much as I could first.

— Warm-up? —

I said, acting out all the confidence I could gather.

— Well, didn’t you think it was going to be that easy? or did you? —

Taunting the ground with his feet, he pulled back one of his legs, and with the same invincible, insubstantial force, he threw himself up-front, almost like ejected, towards me.

There, I barely was able to elude him, throwing myself to the side so hard that I fell into my butt.

Rightfully scared, now not because he had shown to be way faster than before, but because he had gone out the borders of my trip, I felt my plan crumbling down for a second. He was too fast, he jumped too much, he was too unpredictable, too strong. Things were getting out of my expectations at that moment.

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One wrong movement and all would go south, so I stood up and thought. What should I do to activate the Hex at the right time and place? There, my brain lightened and I just began to run.

— For God’s sake, could you at least keep it cool? you were doing great —

He said, before throwing himself front again.

Barely a dash, and he had crossed over the circle again, standing without knowing, outside of its range. I looked back scared to death, having felt for the second time the wind cracked behind me while his body passed next to it.

There, I realized two things.

One, that the speed with which he moved was such that he probably couldn’t control his landing place, proof for which stood the increasing amount of removed grass, mixed with dust in the air.

Two, that if he caught me off guard I'll be surely out of the fight on one blow. That way, having no good chances to face him, an indirect approach seemed to be the best option.

— Come on! I just want to dance a little bit —

— I’m sorry! I’m not much of a dancer myself! —

I said, heading immediately towards Him.

— Oh, you killjoy —

He said before breathing in and throwing himself into an unavoidable collision. I touched the ground with my hand right about time, and the Hex shone in its place.

Just in a breeze, I felt an absurd force bumping over me, pulling me out of my way, till I was thrown away, spinning through the ground.

The smell of fresh-cut grass got mixed inside my nostrils with the dirt, wet for the sprinklers that activate themself during the night.

I had done everything I could, the best I was able to. I had tricked him into the trap and managed to use the Hexes to defend myself. I had endured his attacks, the pain, and fear while charging against him, and still managed to pull myself to a side to activate the Imprisoning Hex, stealthy drawn on the field.

What I had not been able to foresee, was the tiniest and dumbest things of all.

I stood up, to see him fall under the effects of the Hex.... and for a moment I had it.

I had won against all possibilities.

I have made the impossible come true.

Then, he laughed.

As the water wet the field down, I realized.

Much like in the way the water in the bucket under the tap had saved my life during my experiment, to my misfortune, it would do the same for Him this time.

I hadn't won anything at all.

— Well, that’s ironic —

Said Daniel, already comfortable on his seat next to Barnes.

Since they had sat down, going through all of Specter’s exposition about The Book, and finally Oliver’s accountancy of the happenings, the evening had fallen giving place to the night.

By the moment Chief Ortega knocked on the door, the clock’s needles pointed a quarter to ten.

— Guys, I just wanted to let you know that I’m already leaving —

By that moment, Specter had rightfully covered Oliver's head, letting him in the middle of his tell of the fight.

Barnes, who had taken the due precautions not to let the man see what was happening inside the room gave him a worried look and dispatched him as soon as he could.

— We… are going to need some more time, Agent Specters is just finishing his instructions... —

— I understand Detective, just make sure… to be back at home by the morning —

— We will Captain, we…. yeah —

The air was thick inside the room.

— So he doesn’t know? —

Asked Daniel, as Barnes came back to his side, letting himself fall heavy on the chair.

Specter looked stoic.

— Due to the nature of our work, we cannot let information slit through too easily —

The two detectives shared a look.

— Usually, we’re not out there telling everything about our cases, or how we operate... you surely understand why —

— Yeah, I bet —

Said Barnes.

— And... what makes us so special? —

Daniel asked.

— Well… —

Rising an eyebrow, Specter measured his answer, to which Oliver gave a glimpse of judgment from inside the box.

— No one else is being followed by the book, isn't it? —

There Daniel shrugged his face, holding his chin as he thought about it.

— So, how The Book presents you... matters? —

— Oh, it surely does —

Specter held his silence then as if he was saving a truth from the rest.

— But it’s... classified? —

— Very clever —

Specter conceded

— Anyways, it’s still not clear how you lost your head —

Oliver nodded from the comfort of his place, a little bit embarrassed.

— I’m just about to get to that part —

Barnes stood from his seat and went to the corner, where the coffee machine had been accommodated.

— Don’t we have something stronger? —

Then, Oliver began talking again.