Derrek awoke in his room with the aid of neither light nor alarm. Despite drinking almost as much as Discord had, he felt right as rain. He climbed out of bed and took a shower, surprising himself briefly with his hair and eye when he looked in the mirror. He realized it would take a while to get used to, and put in the contacts Mila had given him.
He got dressed and opened the curtains to find sunlight just barely poking out over the horizon. By his estimates, it was about 5:45. He checked his phone to find he was right. He also found roughly two hundred text messages of animals wearing human clothes, sent from a phone number with no area code and only four numbers: 7924.
He scrolled through a few, then decided to go through it in depth later and put his phone away. He had a good idea of who sent them anyway. The thought occurred that he had been staying at the Schadenfreude for two weeks at this point and had never opened the glass doors to his balcony, so he decided to do just that.
The experience was breathtaking—the wildlife grazing in the field, the smell of the dew, the gentle breeze that rolled over him, all as low sunlight made the clouds overhead into beautiful shades of orange, reminding him of the skin of a peach for some reason.
Suddenly, there was a firm hand on Derrek’s shoulder.
“Yeah, the view is pretty awesome.”
He turned to see the bushy beard of Jeffrey and the body it was attached to standing beside him, staring at the scenery. He looked at Derrek, and the peaceful face he had been wearing up until was quickly replaced with one of confusion.
Derrek remembered his hair. “I had a bit of a crazy night. Want to grab some coffee?”
“Yeah … coffee sounds good right about now.”
As they left the room for the dining hall, Derrek saw that his door handle had been removed and the lock tampered with. As they entered the elevator, he leaned over to Jeffrey. “You’re gonna get reception to fix my lock.”
“Aw, come on. You got the last ones fixed.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll start charging for property damage if I come to them with any more. Get it fixed.”
Jeffrey was surprised at Derrek’s newfound confidence. He had been no pushover before, but he could tell there was something different about him, aside from his hair.
After the elevator came to a stop, the two of them made their way across the lobby to the dining hall. They went to the buffet table and each poured themselves a mug of coffee. Jeffrey led the way to their usual table, and the two took their seats. After several sips in tense silence, Derrek broke the ice.
“So, the hair.”
“Yes, what’s up with the hair?” Jeffrey asked, glad Derrek had brought it up first.
“Last night, I went out and had a bit too much to drink. I met this weird guy, and we got into a fight with those assholes from last weekend. After that, I thought it would be fun to dye my hair. That’s pretty much it.”
“Well, alright then. Did I miss anything else while I was gone?”
“Not really, aside from that it’s been business as usual. We’re actually ahead on our quotas. If we keep going at this rate, we might be out a week early,” Derrek said, pausing to take a long sip from his mug. He narrowed his gaze over his mug on Jeffrey, and after he set his coffee down, he said, “And where have you been?”
“Eh, just trying to buy a couch.”
Derrek wasn’t sure why, but he could tell Jeffrey was lying.
“That’s the best you can come up with?”
“What’re you talking about? There was an antique couch for sale in Bulgaria, first come, first serve. Almost had to drag race two other couch enthusiasts the whole damn way there.”
“Did you get the couch?”
Jeffrey paused for a moment. “Yeah, I rented a storage unit to keep it until we ship out. Hey, have you been keeping up on your workouts?”
Derrek glared at him for a split second but decided to let the lie slide and replied, “Yeah, I managed to get my time down to forty-six minutes on the ten-mile.”
“Good. Cardio is real important.”
Just then, a voice came from the side of the table. “I’ll second that. Who wants pancakes?”
Standing next to the table was Discord, balancing no less than six plates stacked high with pancakes, topped with butter, in and on his arms. He straightened his arms out and deftly slid the plates so that two ended up in front of Jeffry, two in front of Derrek, and two in front of Discord. He sat down in a chair that the other two men were sure had not been there a second earlier.
Jeffrey was stunned, staring blankly at this man in the least first-thing-in-the-morning attire he had ever seen. However, he was not one to turn down pancakes when offered. “I don’t know who you are, but these pancakes smell so good, I don’t care.”
Derrek, who had already started digging into one of his plates, chimed in, “This is Discord, the guy I met last night.”
“Ah,” Jeffrey said, extending his right arm and sticking his fork into one of his plates. “Major Jeffrey Reynolds. It’s a pleasure.”
Discord shook his hand and said, “Double Colonel Dis H. Cord. The pleasure’s all mine.”
“Double colonel?”
“Yep,” Discord said, opening his coat, revealing a slew of medals and insignia. He pointed to one that was two eagles, each holding a bunch of wheat, with the United States crest on their chests, connected by one bar behind their heads and one behind their respective supply of wheat. He then said, “They wanted to promote me. I wanted to stay in the field. This was the middle ground.”
“Huh?” Jeffrey said. He knew there was no such rank, yet his badge seemed legitimate. Had this man not brought copious amounts of pancakes, he might have questioned further, but he chose to chalk it up to the weirdness factor Derrek had mentioned earlier.
“Good morning, Discord,” Derrek said. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a bat, my friend—not at all. How’s that hair treating you? Did it surprise you when you woke up?”
“Totally,” Derrek said, digging into his own plates. “I didn’t even think about it until I got out of the shower. For a second, I thought it was a trick of the steam.”
The three shared a laugh, stopping to engorge themselves on the feast of flapjacks before them. After nearly five uninterrupted minutes of this, Discord was nearly a quarter into his second plate, while the other two were only close to halfway done with their first. He stopped and faced Derrek.
“Hey, could you do me a favor and grab a couple of bottles of syrup for the table?” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder across the room at a table with a plethora of syrups, jams, and butters.
“Yeah, sure thing.”
Derrek got up and made his way toward the table. As soon as he was out of earshot, Discord faced Jeffrey.
“How long have you had that book?”
“Come again?” Jeffrey replied, confused by the question.
“The inferno, Latin, signed by L, the cursed one.”
Jeffrey was stunned, then very angry. He was about to reach for his gun, but Discord put up his hand.
“Hold your horses, partner. You’ve got nothing to gain by killing me and nothing to lose by letting me live. I’m very discreet, and I doubt shooting anything here would go over well with anyone.”
He was right—Jeffrey knew that. Whoever this man was, Derrek trusted him, and that would have to be enough for him.
“About fifteen years.”
“And who gave it to you?”
Jeffrey was silent for a moment, then hesitantly said, “One of my squadmates, Arnold.”
“And how much do you know about it?”
“Just that the day after he gave it to me he was killed by the same mortar that took my leg.”
“Yeah, luck in exchange for misfortune. Real weird concept. You know, it works retroactively too.”
“What do you mean?”
“It causes misfortune, yeah, but it brings fortune to those who have been unfortunate in their lives.”
Jeffrey suddenly realized something. “How did you know I have the book?”
“It’s your aura.”
Jeffrey looked at him like he was stupid, to which Discord simply raised an eyebrow.
“Look, I knew you had the book, so I’m obviously not bullshitting you.”
Jeffrey dropped the look and stared down at his pancakes.
“It’s like a sixth-sense thing, except it’s closer to a thirty-fourth sense. It’s intuitive. It’s not like reading the colors around you and they say this or that. It’s more like having a deep understanding of someone you’ve never met. Some people can get the same effect just from body language. Besides, I’ve always preferred syrup with my pancakes.”
Jeffrey looked up at him in confusion, then saw that Derrek was only a few feet away, coming toward the table, two bottles of maple syrup in tow.
“I got the syrup. What were you two talking about?” he said, noticing Jeffrey’s worried expression.
“Nothing much, just debating on whether syrup or butter is better for pancakes. Personally, I prefer both, but I’d go with syrup if I had to choose.”
“Yeah …” Jeffrey said, rolling with Discord’s lie, not wanting to drag Derrek into the conversation. “My dad was really conservative and saw buying maple syrup as supporting the Communist Canadian bastards, so butter was always the go-to.”
“I don’t mind either,” Derrek said as he took his seat. “Plain is even fine by me.”
Discord slammed his hands on the table, causing his plates to jump nearly a foot high. They landed perfectly where they once lay and yelled, “Blasphemy!”
They were silent for a brief moment. Then Derrek began to chuckle. Pretty soon, all three men were laughing. After regaining their senses, the men began to smother what pancakes they had left in syrup and dug into the sweet, fluffy pile of goodness before them.
Over the next few minutes, none of them spoke a word, as they were enthralled by the hypnotic combination of the sweetness of the syrup and the smell of the pancakes. Once they were all finished with their meals, they sat there satisfied and overstuffed, even Discord. The next few minutes were quiet, aside from occasional grunts and gurgles from their stomachs dealing with their contents.
About ten minutes had passed, and their stomachs had settled. Discord stood up. “All right, Havok, let’s get a move on!”
Jeffrey was confused and asked, “Havoc? His name’s Derrek. And where are you off to?”
“It’s Havok, with a K,” Discord replied. “It’s a nickname. And as of today, I’m taking this snowy-haired corporate drone under my wing and putting him on my strict physical training regimen. It’s how I achieved the level of confidence I proudly possess, and I think he’ll benefit from it immensely.”
“Huh. Are you good with this, Derrek?”
“Yeah, we agreed on it last night. Sounded like a good way to fill the weekends while I’m here.”
“Well, all right. Got room for one more?”
Derrek looked at Discord with a worried look on his face, but Discord calmly said, “Sorry, no can do.”
“And why the hell is that?” Jeffrey asked, slightly annoyed.
“I was taught this training technique by an extremely secretive society of monks. I took an oath to never reveal the secret to anyone save for those who prove themselves worthy. And I’m sorry bud, but you’re ineligible.”
“What does that even mean?” Jeffrey said, clearly getting more annoyed.
“I mean, look at you. You’re buff. Your muscles are too developed. There’s just no way.”
Jeffrey was visibly unsatisfied with that answer but realized there was no way he was going to be able to tag along.
“Fine,” he said. “Let me know how it goes. I’ve gotta meet with the project heads anyway. Apparently, they didn’t approve my week off, so I have to deal with that shit show. See you around.”
Jeffrey left with his hands in his pockets and a sour expression on his face. Derrek wanted to let him come along, but he knew there was no way he could find out the truth, not yet, at least, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel bad about it.
Discord nudged him. “Don’t worry about it too much. He’s a grown man. He’ll get over it.”
“I know. I just don’t like lying.”
“That’s good, but you’d better get used to it. It kind of comes with the territory.”
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“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Besides, the monk thing wasn’t entirely a lie. I just used it creatively. The secret they shared was just a recipe for a vegetarian paella, but I’ll be damned if I’m breaking that promise.”
Derrek cracked a smile and began stacking the plates for the ease of whoever cleaned them up. Discord told him it was time to get to it, and the two got up and made their way to the parking lot.
Derrek started walking toward the SUV they had used the day before, but Discord stopped him.
“Nah, we’re taking those beauties.”
He pointed to a pair of sleek-looking motorcycles, one red with black trim, the other white with blue trim. Discord was already mounted on the red one, which surprised Derrek, as he had been standing next to him just a second earlier, and the bikes were easily fifty feet away.
“You ever ride one of these?” Discord asked after Derrek closed the distance.
“I never even rode a bike as a kid. I don’t know how well this will work out.”
“It’ll be fine. All you’ve got to do is keep your balance and keep up with me.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Nonsense. It’s the best idea. Just give it a shot.”
Derrek sighed and climbed onto the white bike, and Discord tossed him a helmet, which he put on and strapped tight, while Discord left his own head uncovered. The key was in the ignition. Nervously, he turned it, causing the engine to spring to life with a roar.
Discord was visibly excited and cranked his bike, revving his engine and burning out, leaving marks on the pavement under him. He popped a wheelie and circled Derrek for a lot longer than he expected he’d be able to.
Goddamn it, Derrek said to himself as he lifted his kickstand, revved his engine, and took off at fifteen miles per hour, beginning his crawl down the road.
Discord got back down on two wheels and rode alongside him, calling out over the roar of their engines.
“You gotta go faster.”
Derrek shook his head no, to which Discord responded by leaning over and twisting his throttle, sending him shooting through the parking lot.
Derrek was terrified. His heart was racing, and he could feel sweat dripping down his forehead. Suddenly, a wave of calm washed over him. He felt his speed, and it was simpler than he expected. He kept his balance, leaning into his turns, weaving his way down the road with Discord by his side.
Discord took charge and led him down a side road still on the hotel property leading into the woods. The road was narrow and unpaved, likely meant for walking or bicycling, but the two continued for several minutes. They eventually got to a fork in the road. One path continued the one they were one. The other chained off and didn’t seem to have been used in years.
Discord got off of his motorcycle and undid the chain, signaling for Derrek to move forward while he walked his bike behind the chain, which he replaced once his bike was on the other side. They went down that path for another ten minutes before arriving at a clearing. It was a big clearing and not unlike the others Derrek had seen, save for a large white circle along its border. They parked their bikes at the entrance and approached the circle. Discord waved his hand above the line, revealing a shimmering dome covering the area, giving Derrek a sinking feeling deep within. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt unwelcome there, like the clearing itself wanted him gone.
“Don’t mind it,” Discord said, snapping Derrek out of his fixation on the dome. “It’s a Null Dome. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out, at least not without someone like yours truly’s say-so.”
Looking at him, Derrek saw he had his arm extended into the dome, creating an opening the size of a door, which Discord waved him into. Entering it, he saw it was exactly the same as it looked from outside the dome on the surface, but he couldn’t feel the wind or hear the sounds of nature, save for immediately behind him. Suddenly, even that sound was gone, and Derrek knew he was trapped within this silent prison. The grass beneath his feet was the only thing he could feel, and he took a moment to crouch down and run his fingers between the blades. That managed to ground him and snap him out of it.
“Yeah,” Discord said, “it can be a lot to take. Something about the sudden sensory deprivation mixed with the dome’s repulsion of spiritual energy makes adjusting to it a real pain in the ass.”
“You don’t say?” Derrek said, still petting the grass, gradually restoring his composure. Discord stood aside and let him take however much time he needed, and after a minute and a half, he stood again and brushed some dirt from his knees.
“Ready?” Discord asked.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Good.”
He reached into his coat and threw a blade at Derrek’s feet, giving him only enough time to jump back and narrowly avoid getting stuck between the toes. He was about to give Discord a piece of his mind before he realized what was stuck in the ground in front of him was the sword he had used the day before.
“Pick it up,” Discord said.
Derrek hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it by the grip and pulled the sword from the ground, finding it was more than a foot deep in the dirt. He took a few seconds to brush the clumps of dirt from the serrated side of the blade, being careful not to get his shirt caught on it.
“I’ve had that bad boy for a long time,” Discord said. “A Japanese village had a bit of a problem with some minor trickster god turning their crops to worms, and they gave me that sword as payment. Damn thing wasn’t even worth a thousand yen, so I took it to some temple or another and got that baby blessed, so now it can hurt spectral shit, including reapers. I call it Oni’s Tooth. Treat it with respect.”
Derrek nodded, then asked, “So, when do we start?”
Discord held up a single finger. “We just did. Lesson number one: Weapons have a history, just as people do. Treat yours not as a tool but as an ally. You and your weapon must be in sync, or you’re dead.”
Derrek looked to the sword, then back to Discord, then back to the sword, then finally said to Discord, “I get that, but I mean … it’s still just a sword.”
Discord dropped his smile and sighed, then waved Derrek over. “Come over here.”
Derrek approached, and Discord reached his hands into his coat in a criss-cross manner, producing two perfectly identical handguns covered with eldritch carvings and flecked with small drops of blood.
He raised the gun in his right hand. “This is Sue.” He raised the opposite gun. “And this is Mary. They may seem to be regular old satanic-looking 1911s, but the girls I’m addressing are souls trapped within said guns.”
Derrek blinked a few times, trying to process the information, all while rapidly looking from each gun to Discord until eventually, he found the word he was looking for.
“What?”
“Yeah, should’ve seen that coming,” Discord said. He looked at his guns as if he were listening intently to someone speaking. “That might work.”
He deftly tossed both guns to their opposite hands, flipping them as he did, then caught them by the barrel, Sue now in his left hand and Mary in his right. He extended both guns toward Derrek, grip first. “Hold them. You’ll get it.”
Derrek was hesitant, as was to be expected, but he stuck his sword into the ground and slowly reached for them, carefully grabbing both, avoiding the triggers at all costs. He examined them, taking note of the intricate carvings and etchings as well as how well-maintained they looked as a pair.
Like what you see?
The voice was feminine, and seemed to originate from within Derrek’s head, confusing him immensely. He looked around to try to find the true source, but stopped once he heard a second female voice.
Look all you want, but you already found us.
What Discord had said seconds earlier finally set in, and he looked down at the weapons in his hands.
So, the first voice said, I guess introductions are in order. The name’s Susanne Bates, but everyone calls me Sue.
The second voice spoke up. And I’m Maribelle Bates. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Derrek.
Derrek was silent for several seconds and was certain that if he didn’t have the reaper’s touch, he would have been on the ground, catatonic from the sheer overload of weirdness. He eventually found his words and spoke thusly.
“OK.”
Sue and Mary lacked the facilities to show expression, but Derrek felt if they did, they would’ve blankly stared at him, as did Discord, who was disappointed he hadn’t freaked out.
I guess underreaction is better than over, Sue said. Probably didn’t help we’re a bit late.
Mary said, We would’ve gotten a better reaction if we met before Mila, I’m sure.
So, got any questions, or did this pretty much cover it?
Derrek looked at them in thought for a few seconds. “I think I get it now, but do you mind if I ask a question or two?”
Knock yourself out, the two said in unison.
“How did you two end up like this?”
They fell silent, and Derrek could feel the discomfort the question caused. Discord stepped forward and whispered into his ear.
“Yeah, they don’t like talking about it. I’ll fill you in later, but I think it’d be best if I take them back.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“It’s all good. Just hand them over and pick your sword back up. We need to get to training.”
Without saying a word, Derrek handed Sue and Mary back to him. Discord twirled them, flipping them into the air and deftly catching them before slinging them into his coat, which rippled and flapped as if the wind were blowing, even though that was impossible.
Derrek did as he was told and retrieved his sword after Discord put on his display. After he cleaned the dirt from the blade, he heard a near-deafening shot ring out and felt a burning pain in his left arm. He winced from the pain and jumped nearly ten feet away from it. He looked to Discord, the only other person in the dome, and saw him holding the same oversized revolver he had pointed at him the day before.
“What the hell was that?” Derrek asked.
“Reflex test. Yours are pretty good. You even managed to halfway avoid it. Could be better though.”
Derrek groaned and remembered he didn’t have too much say in the matter. “What was I supposed to do, then?”
“Dodge it, deflect it, catch it—doesn’t matter to me—just do your best to not get hit.”
“Well, could you at least give me some warning beforehand?”
“Nope,” Discord said as he fired another shot.
Time slowed for Derrek, and he saw the bullet heading toward him, heading for his right shoulder. He moved on instinct alone and rolled to the left, avoiding it completely. He landed on his feet and stood with his sword at the ready. He caught a flash of Discord’s face before he could train another shot on him, and he looked impressed before shooting another toward his calf.
He jumped, spinning midair as a large chunk of earth was dislodged beneath where his feet were. Amazed at his newfound acrobatic prowess, he twisted his body, allowing him to see where Discord was to anticipate his next move, but he saw nothing but grass where he should have been. A brief moment of confusion washed over Derrek before he felt the wind leave his body and a deep pain in his guts, followed by a sharp decline. As he fell, he saw Discord, floating with his fist pointed toward the ground.
He hit the ground and bounced four feet into the air, then came to rest as he tried to catch his breath. Discord landed gracefully next to him and briefly examined the damage he caused. After seeing Derrek was still breathing, he put his fists at his side and looked down on him.
“Second lesson: Never take your eyes off your opponent. The moment you blink is the moment you lose.”
Derrek gasped for air, struggling to breathe. He managed to pull himself to his knees, and through his deep breaths, he let out a strained, “No … ted …”
Discord reached out a hand, which Derrek accepted, and pulled him to his feet. He took a few more breaths, and soon enough, the pain in his stomach was gone, and he was ready enough for round two.
Discord allowed him to fall back, reloading his revolver to full and pointing it at Derrek, who stood with his sword raised and his eyes fixed on Discord. For a brief few seconds, the two stood motionless in anticipation of the others’ action.
Suddenly, the gun was lowered to Discord’s waist and he fan-fired three shots, all aimed for center mass. Derrek knew he didn’t have enough time to avoid the bullets, so he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and focused on his timing.
He swung the sword at an angle, deflecting the first shot over his head, doing the same for the second with a slash in the opposite direction. He wasn’t so lucky with the third shot and was only able to take the force of the bullet just above the crossguard, violently launching the sword out of his hands, which were stinging with pain.
Another shot rang out as he reeled from the last hit, so he rolled, retrieving his sword along the way, and a chunk of dirt was blasted away some ways behind where he stood and readied himself for the next attack. Before he could prepare, however, he was greeted by Discord, standing inches away from him, with his right leg lifted high over his head.
He dropped his leg down, giving Derrek no time to react as the back of Discord’s foot crashed in between his neck and shoulder, dropping him instantly to the ground.
“Lesson número tres: Predict your opponent while leaving them guessing. Works every time. And hold your sword a bit looser. You’ve got crazy strength, but if you hold as tight as you are, you’ve got no wiggle room when you take a straight hit.”
Derrek was unable to move his limbs and his entire body was numb but somehow also exploding with pain, but he was breathing normally, so that was a plus. He lay flat on his back, splayed out along the grass, trying with all he had to move any part of himself. He could wiggle his toes, but for the time being, that was about the extent of his abilities.
Discord saw the state he was in. He knelt down next to his shoulder and gently pinched the spot where his foot had slammed into, and Derrek instantly regained full control of his motor functions, albeit with some definite stiffness.
“Sorry about that,” Discord said. “There’s a pressure point there, and I guess I overloaded your nervous system. Kinda rebooted your whole body.”
Derrek pulled himself to his feet and began stretching, alleviating the stiffness and limbering him up. As he rubbed his neck, he said, “So, is there an end goal here, or are you just having fun kicking my ass?”
“A little bit of both,” Discord replied, grinning widely. “You can’t get stronger from fighting someone you can easily beat. It’s like chess; the only way you can get better is by going against those better than you.”
Derrek started to protest, but he knew it was a good point.
“I guess that’s fair,” he said, picking his sword back up and raising it in his best estimate of what a dueling stance was, “but don’t think I won’t get in some hits of my own.”
After hearing that, Discord’s grin grew to a full-blown smile. He reached into his coat and slowly pulled out the sword he had used the day before, gripping it with his right hand, pointing it toward Derrek.
“Come and try, then.”
Derrek rushed forward, closing the gap with a wide, leftward slash, which Discord braced for with the flat of his sword. He then hit Derrek with an open-palm strike, throwing him back several feet, but he remained standing.
Without missing a beat, he jumped forward, thrusting his sword toward Discord’s chest. Just before the blade made contact, however, he was flung forward from Discord, kicking him in the back. He turned as he moved, digging his feet into the ground, leaving two trenches in his wake.
Discord rested his sword on his shoulder, beaming with pride. “You’ve got good form, but you’re staring at your targets. I could tell exactly where you were going for. Try visualizing where you wanna strike instead while keeping your eye on me as a whole.”
“Huh. All right, I’ll give it a try,” Derrek said as he dug his feet out of the ground. After kicking a large portion of the earth from his shoes, which he was sure were going to be ruined by the end of it, he rushed at Discord, staring him down as he readied his sword for an upward strike.
Discord jumped back as the slash cut through the air where he once stood, catching a portion of his coat’s fabric, leaving a large gash across it. After landing, he looked at Derrek and readied his sword as threads began to launch from one end of the damage to the other, rapidly pulling itself together until the fabric was fully restored.
“Hells yeah! That’s the spirit!”
As Derrek ran at him with his sword raised, Discord did the same and their blades clashed in an explosion of sparks and a shockwave that flattened all of the grass within a ten-foot radius. The two men pressed their swords against each other, moving back and forth as they fought over the upper hand, but Discord had a clear advantage. At least, that was until Derrek head-butted him, shattering his nose in a shower of blood and a sickening crunch.
As he reeled from the pain, Derrek capitalized on the opening he had created and swept his leg, throwing Discord off of his feet and onto the ground. After his nose healed, he opened his eyes to see the point of a sword in his face. A few seconds passed before either of them spoke, and it was Discord to break the silence.
“You gonna go for the kill or what?”
Another pause fell over them, and to Discord’s surprise, Derrek stuck his sword into the ground next to his head and reached out his hand.
“We’re only sparring, right?”
Discord was shocked. He had planned for everything in case Derrek wasn’t able to control himself. He brought him to a place where he couldn’t escape should he need to be contained. He did everything he could to drag the power out of him, from a surprise attack to a complete bodily shut down, but this was something he never expected from anyone, especially a host of the Devourer.
Mercy.
It was indeed only meant to be a sparring match, albeit an extremely intense one, but even still, Discord expected him to at least try to kill him. They both knew even if Derrek landed a fatal blow, it wouldn’t take, but not once did he go for a lethal strike. Even with all this shared knowledge between the two, Discord could tell by the look in his eyes that were he not immortal and were they true enemies, Derrek would have done the same thing he had done then.
Discord’s face changed to a smile, but one unlike his usual cocky grin. This smile was warm and knowing. He accepted Derrek’s hand and used it to pull himself to his feet, and the two met eyes. They didn’t see ancient foes or strangers, but they both saw friends in the other.
After a few seconds, Derrek was lifted off of his feet, lifted into the air in a narrow arc, and slammed flat on his back. He opened his eyes to see Discord, still holding onto his hand with his grin returned.
“Fourth lesson: Mercy is a damn good thing, but never forget that some will use it against you.”
Derrek groaned and used Discord’s hand to pull himself up. “I should have stabbed you in the face.”
“You’re welcome to try again. Arm up, we’re going for round two.”
Derrek nodded and pulled his sword from the ground, shaking the dirt from the jagged back of the blade and preparing himself for an attack. He had his doubts, as anyone in his situation would, but at that moment, in that split second in time, he knew that this was not only what he was meant to do but who he was meant to be. He lunged forward with his sword raised, a smile on his face and conviction in his heart.