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An Angel’s Road to Hell
193. Of brawls, friends and a little wisdom

193. Of brawls, friends and a little wisdom

Mordred Pendragon

My head was ringing, the last punch had connected with my jaw and stars were flickering through my vision. I spit out a mouthful of blood and grinned at my opponent, the third consecutive fighter who hadn’t been able to wait to test his strength against an unknown beast kin.

“Y’are fast, ah’ll give yah that. Ain’t no mass behind yar swings, though. Ain’t no girlie strikin’ down Big Dick.” Seriously, was I the only one who found his moniker hilarious? I’d have gone for Big Rick in his stead, if I had been named Richard and had had about as much braincells as there were letters in my name, but no one even cracked a smile. Maybe they were just afraid the 120 kilo machine would take offence? A viable concern, my swollen face and bruised ribs attested.

“You know, if you used your magic, this fight would have been over before it even started,” my mum commented scathingly. “Is there a point to being beaten to a pulp?”

What could I say? That I felt better while my blood pumped through my veins, my muscles ached and sweat dripped form my brow? That I felt in control for the first time since I had awakened from my trance back on Boseiju? Whether I was beaten or dishing out the strikes, in the end, for those few minutes, I still felt… free. I didn’t have to compare myself to anyone, I didn’t have to feel insufficient or tainted, there was only the fight itself and my opponent. Adding magic to the mix would have dispelled the charm. But I’d rather have allowed Big Dick over there to pummel me into the ground repeatedly than say it out loud.

“Yeah,” I finally answered. “Combat is one of the things I’m actually good at. And without magic, knocking him senseless will be so much more satisfying. Or do you think I can’t do it?”

“Of course you can, I just don’t see why your face has to turn into minced meat along the way. But go ahead, it’s not my noggin that’s being used as an anvil.” No, that much was definitely true. My mum relaxed on the counter, lazily lapping away at a small bowl of wine I had ordered. At first, she had drawn quite a bit of attention but when she had made it clear that she didn’t appreciate being patted or touched by cutting four beautiful, symmetrical grooves into the face of the first boisterous drunk who had come too close, the ruckus had died down. Not that I didn’t fully expect some of the more adventurous of the lot to cause problems later, but as long as she was staying close to the barkeep and his trusted cudgel, which incidentally had found its way onto the bar after the first encounter, I was reasonably confident that she wouldn’t cause an all out fight.

And well, even if she did, her, or rather our, chances weren’t too bad. The guys around here were brutes and brigands, dangerous in a brawl, but I wouldn’t have put money on them in an actual confrontation. Besides, we both had our magic and none of the people around here had so much as a spark of power in them.

The whistling sound of my opponent’s fist approaching my chin for the second time brought me back to reality. Grunting, I spiralled out of the way and wrapped my tails around his mainstay in passing. With a heave, I broke his balance and sent him tumbling. Before he had had the time to regain his bearings, I shoved my foot up his ass. When he went down, and rolled onto his back, I was on top of him in a heartbeat, strikes raining down like a deluge. “Guess I’ll have to try harder, then,” I grunted.

Unfortunately the dude was just too big. While I managed to split his lip and gift him with a marvellous black eye, he was far from giving up. With a suppressed groan, he lifted both of us off the ground, one handed, and flipped me over with an explosive strength that took me by surprise. I crashed to the floor, hit by the proverbial brick wall, and his weight settled onto my chest with the finality of a chopped down tree. The smell of stale sweat and hard liquor hit me, just the fraction of a second before his fists followed suit. And in contrast to him, I couldn’t simply shrug off the beating. A few more punches and the lights would go out.

For a moment I considered tapping out, but that wasn’t why I had even come here. Either he’d knock me out or I’d turn the tables. Trying to focus despite the heavy punches, I managed to hook my legs under his knees and pull him closer, effectively preventing him from putting any strength into his strikes. A bloody smile spread across my face when I imagined how me must appear to the spectators, a couple of men rolling around in a tight embrace, almost like lovers. But it wasn’t going to last.

With a quick twist, I moved my arm under his and locked it in place, stretching the joint as far as I could. A deep growl was the only reward I needed. He tried breaking my hold but I had the strength of my whole body pushing against him. Even with his bulging muscles, he wouldn’t be able to overcome the disadvantage. Ignoring the feeble hits he dished out with his free hand, I linked my hands and lowered my head, my back providing all the force I needed.

A dry crack sounded through the room and his laboured breathes turned into a low moan while he fervently tapped his unbroken hand against the ground.

“Not a girlie then, am I?” I whispered in his ear before I got up, my surroundings only spinning slightly. A throng of smelly humans rushed forward, clamouring about my victory and the honest praise of strangers did wonders for my self esteem. Smiling broadly, I was hoisted into the air and carried along. Apparently most of the guys had been waiting for quite some time for the big brute to finally kiss the floor and as the one who had made him, I was showered in quite a bit of affection. And then, there were the bets. A sly bookie had made a fortune with the fights and seeing him drown in despair when his hard won coin finally changed the owner endeared me even more to them. Not to mention that I had also made a killing and my first words, once the exuberant shouts and congratulations had died down, didn’t hurt either:

“Next round is on me! Barkeep, open a fresh casket, I’m buying the whole thing. Cheers, lads!”

The ensuing applause sounded like a thunderstorm in a bottle and if my ears hadn’t already been ringing, they would have been now. Another round of clapping rang through the room and for the first time since I could remember, I was at the centre of attention. The men wanted to shake my hand and comment on my fight and the girls flutters their eyes at me and tried to get closer.

Living amongst other kitsune, I had never been the most handsome, nor the strongest in a room… not to mention what had happened when I had been with my family and I honestly enjoyed the feeling. It somehow filled, or maybe covered up, the growing hole in my chest and for now, that was all I wanted. Especially when Richard, I was resolved to grant him that much respect after the fight he had put up, joined me at the counter, his broken arm in an improvised sling. He congratulate me wholeheartedly and even insisted on buying another round for us. Most remarkable, he was the only one who treated my mum with a modicum of reverence, carefully staying away from her and including her in his various toasts. He even threw a stink eye at everyone who’d ogle her with either curiosity or greed. I was truly starting to warm up to the guy, even though he had chased away a pair of truly lovely human girls.

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“Ya’re one slippery fox,” he mumbled, well into his fifth pint. And he wasn’t drinking beer. “But don’t ya thin’ w’are finished! When the old club,” he pointed at his arm, “‘s ready t’ go, yah’ll have to give us another shot! Ah’ll punch ya good, the next time around!”

“You’d have to catch me first,” I grinned. “A hulking brute like yourself will be hard pressed to get his fingers on me again, now that I know how you move. But tell you what, once you’re healed, I’d be willing to teach you a thing or two. We can still make a fighter out of you. With some effort.”

“Ha,” he laughed deep in his belly and slapped my shoulder hard enough to nearly send me tumbling. “Yah’re funny! Ah ain’t no fighter, Ah’m a tavern brawler an’ proud of it! Wha’ would Ah be needing any lessons for? Ya’re the first to get me to mah knees in forever.”

“That’s mainly because you’re to stubborn to realise when you’ve been beaten. But I get your point. Why are you here, anyways? A big hunk of muscles like yourself could easily find work on a ship, could you not? And I’m sure that’s better paid and even less harmful than slamming your head against another fist every day of the week.” He shrugged and downed the rest of his glass.

“Ain’t no good with authorities, Ah am. In here, Ah can do wha’ I want when Ah want. In here, I’m me own capt’n. That’s worth more to me than a few coppers and the promise of adventure.”

I wanted to reply but I felt the words wither away halfway across my tongue. Truth be told, I understood him. Much better than I would have liked. The one time I had set out on my own, I had fucked up, royally, but I still ached for the fleeting feeling of possibility that had overtaken me, back when I had set sail and left my home for the first time on my own.

“I’ll drink to that,” I mumbled and signalled for the barkeep to bring us another round. Richard was more perceptive than I had given him credit for. He immediately picked up on my darkening mood and asked:

“Wha’s the matter? Don’t yah worry, those girls will be waitin’ for yah. They’re even now pulling yahr clothes off with ‘em eyes.” I chuckled darkly.

“That’s not it. I imagine I wouldn’t be hard pressed to find someone to warm my bed tonight, either way. No… just thinking about the past.”

“Wha’? A lad ‘s young as yah self already wrestling with demons of bygone days?”

“I’m not as young as I look. I’m not human, as you very well know. Yeah, those pesky buggers are having a field day with me. And it’s not the first time.” He nodded sagely which elicited a wry grin from me, his expression simply too much of a contrast to his whole appearance.

“Ah know a bit of those. Another reason wha Ah like it where I am. If the past creeps closer, Ah move on. Wha don’t yah move on then? Set sail for another port?”

“It’s not that easy. I’ve got… friends, family… responsibilities. I can’t just run away. Also, I don’t want to. One day, I want to bury the past for good and for that to happen, I’ve got to face it.”

“Huh, yah truly aren’t that young. The only loons I’ve heard talk like tha’ were priests… or toothless elders who ha’ too much ter drink. But yah’ re neither, are yah?”

“No, no priest. And no elder, not even by your standards.”

“How old are yah, if yah don’t mind mah asking?”

“39. 40 in a few months.” Some of his drink went down the wrong pipe when he spluttered.

“Huh,” he finally coughed. “No wonder yah now how ter fight. Me, Ah haven’t even seen me thirtieth year an’ Ah look older than yah… life’s just unfair, yah know. Looks, youth, knows how ter fight… what reason could someone like yahr self even have to look so glum?”

“We all make mistakes and mine tend to be on the serious side. Plus… you haven’t met my family. Trust me, you won’t think of me as gifted, once you’ve seen them.” My mum growled quietly, mainly to remember me that I shouldn’t talk too much about who we were, especially in here, but she didn’t stop me outright. Richard’s eyes darted quickly towards her but when she winked at him lazily, he quickly glanced away again.

“Isn’t that a reason to be happy,” he asked. “Yah know, being related to capable people isn’t bad for yah. Ah’d call it a boon… considering mah gormless halfwit of a brother, Ah’d trade anytime.”

“I’d probably take him… then again, probably not, if I really had to choose. Don’t get me wrong, I like… love most of my family but I just don’t think I can ever leave their shadow. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. Maybe I’m arrogant or conceited to think I have the right to write my own story, but…”

“‘N why don’t yah? ‘S never too late ter start, yah know?”

“The last time didn’t go very well… remember, demons of the past, the monsters under the bed?”

“So… yah’re givin’ up? Made a mess ‘n now yah ain’t gonna try no more?”

“Something like…” I couldn’t finish since his meaty, uninjured hand slapped the back of my head strongly enough to nearly make me crash into the counter. When I struggled back up I saw my mum laugh quietly, her pearly teeth on full display.

“What was that for,” I complained while I rubbed the throbbing patch of skin where he had hit me.

“Sorry, but yah deserve a good spanking’ and since Ah couldn’t give it to yah before, Ah wanted ter, now. Are yah bloody stupid? So yah made some mistakes and yah’re no god… lemme tell yah a secret. None of us are. There’s always someone ou’ there who’s tougher, faster, cleverer. If yah thin’ that a reason ter hide in a corner, yah better get on with it ‘n jump off the next cliff, cuz son, that’s life. Even a drunk, muscle head like mahself knows ‘s much. Have yah been living under a rock for the past 40 years?”

“If you put it like that… no, seriously, I know what you’re getting at, I truly do. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I just don’t…”

“Yah thin’ yah don’t have the strength? Don’t have it in yah to go on, not knowing if it’ll get better? Mate, that’s called growin’ up. Yah know what Ah do when Ah wake up, hurting all over? When Ah think Ah can’t get mah bones ter move no more? Ah clench mah butt ‘n get the fuck on with mah life. M’be Ah’ll get another kickin’, m’be Ah won’t, but neither is gonna stop me from tryin’. Yah hear me? And Ah’m a measly human. Wha’ excuse do yah have? Ah like yah, Ah do, yah’re fun t’ be around n’ yah can fight. Not much more Ah need, but Ah would never ‘ve ‘xpected yah t’ be a coward. Get yah head out of yahr ass ‘n m’be yah can see the sunshine again.” My mum had been nodding along with every word, obviously more than happy to let him do the talking.

“May the ancestors protect me, I didn’t think you’d turn out to be a philosopher. Where did that come from?”

“Ah don’t know about no philosophy but when yah get yahr noggin’ pummelled every day of the week ‘n yah see someone with yah’re talents mopin’ yah gotta say yahr piece. Make of it wha’ yah will but ‘s far ‘s Ah’m concerned, yah’re waistin’ yahr gifts when yah’ chase after wha’ yah think yah’ have to be and forget ter live along the way. Self righteousness ‘s good ‘n all bu’ when it makes yah crumble under its weight, yah should look for somethin’ else. Ain’t no one tellin’ yah what yah gotta be. That’s somethin’ yah gotta work out for yah self ‘n it can be painful ‘n hard but it’s well worth yahr time ‘n worth a helluva lot more than blaming yah self and the world.”

“You already know who you are, then?”

“Does it look like Ah’ve found mah place? Lemme tell yah, Ah might prefer tha’ tavern to a ship, but Ah’m not gonna stay here fer the rest o’ mah life. But Ah’m lookin’. Ah’m talkin’ ter people,” her raised his glass in my direction, “‘n Ah’m keepin’ mah ears open. Who knows, maybe Ah’m out ‘n about tomorrow. Ah can’t tell, but whatever Ah’m gonna do, it’ll be mah own decision. M’be Ah’m gonna get mah balls kicked in for mah troubles, but that a risk we all gotta take.”

“So what? You’re saying I should do whatever I want?” He took another sip and swallowed slowly.

“Yah said yah have responsibilities. M’be try fulfilling them how yah see fit, ‘n not anyone else? Do what yah gotta do, but do it in yahr…” the door bursted open to reveal a pale, breathless dwarf.