With a stranger staying in the room, Will thought he would have trouble sleeping. To his surprise, he hardly gave the Irishman any thought. He was too exhausted to care if Irish tried anything. Will wasn’t all too surprised to find Irish gone the next morning, but he had expected Samson to still be sleeping. The big man was always the last to wake up. Samson, the pseudo-leader, prided himself on besting them all in their spars. Irish was the first person who had given him real trouble.
“Where’s Samson?” Will questioned Santos. Mounted on the wall was a clock, and Will noticed it was still a few minutes before Maven woke them up.
“No idea,” Santos said with a wide yawn. Ryu got up from bed, putting on his workout clothes. Will and Santos followed, only to find Katy already walking out of the restroom. Mav’s conditioning was paying off. A little over 2 weeks there and they were all running on about 6 hours of sleep. Santos healing them every night helped, of course, but still, Will had always preferred to sleep in.
The group got to the gym to find Samson and Irish sparring with one another. Indeed, it wasn't so much sparring as it was a full-on battle. Will had thought for sure that the guy would run. Though Samson towered over Irish by a good 8 inches, Irish didn’t appear put off by him. They were currently grunting and groaning on the ground. Samson had Irish in an odd hold of his arm.
“A night together, and they’re already such close lovers,” Katy mumbled.
“I heard that!” Samson yelled. Irish drew his arm back, elbowing Samson in the balls hard. As he cursed and held onto his groin, Samson let go. Irish rolled away, sweating profusely as he caught his breath.
“Not bad,” he said between breaths.
Samson grunted and pushed himself to his knees as he got out. "Up yours."
“See, they’re touching each other’s privates,” Katy stage-whispered.
“Up yours too,” Samson growled.
“Very fun,” Mav said as he came in through the side door. “It’s good to know I wasn’t demanding enough of you all, if you’re this lively in the mornings.”
“Ugh,” Will groaned.
“No, Irish simply wanted a tour of the place,” Samson said.
Irish gave Samson a look, but shaking his head, he said, “Aye, decided to go for a wee little stroll this morning, and this gorilla decided to follow me.”
“I didn’t follow you,” Samson said.
“They’re in love,” Katy said.
“With only a flat-chested girl like you around, I’d have to look somewhere,” Samson spat.
“Ooooh,” Ryu said, laughing as Katy’s eyes bulged wide.
“What?!” She yelled. Will stepped back as the invisible wind exuded from her like a wall. Katy was sensitive about her physique.
“You heard me,” Samson said.
“Baldy, you have 10 seconds to take back those words,” Katy said, walking up to the big man like he wasn’t head and shoulders taller than her.
“Bring it, pancake,” Samson said, and the fight started. Will didn’t see it, but he could hear the roar of wind as it came into existence around Katy and shot at him. It focused on Samson’s chest. He lost his footing and was blown back, but he rolled with it. After a few turns, he came to a halt, grabbed onto the ground, and launched himself at her on all fours.
His body flowed forward with the force of pushing off the ground; his legs landed, and he ran at her. Katy wasn’t scared, though. With her hands twisting in the air, she pulled them together and pushed at Samson with open palms. The wind concentrated on him again, but he was ready for it. Throwing himself to the side, he bounded forward again, only for Katy to force forward more wind.
It became a game of patience between the duo. As Katy focused her wind, Samson dodged to the side. Samson made it forward a few feet before he had to dodge again, making it clear that he was too quick for Katy. She would lose eventually. Mav noticed it as well. Appearing behind Katy, the old man's hand glowed white with energy as he hit her in the neck. Her body went rigid, then she fell to the ground. Samson’s eyes went wide as a streak of lightning left Mav’s hand. He couldn’t dodge this attack. It hit him squarely in the face. His expressions changed, then locked up like his body did. He was on the ground, too.
“That was fun,” Mav said over their bodies. “Normally, I’m all for you fighting. However, the incorporation of powers can lead to unexpected consequences. He eyed Samson. “You especially know that fighting angry is not good.”
Samson grumbled something as he got control of his muscles again. Katy twitched, then moved an arm. Pushing herself up with great effort, Will decided not to help them. Walking over to Irish with the others, he extended his hand out.
“Ignore them. This happens every other day or so,” Will said.
“Seems so. Samson must inspire fighting,” Irish said. Taking his hand, they shook strongly. Will wanted to prod more on what Irish had said about Maven, but he doubted he would get anything.
“Must admit, I’m pretty sore already, though,” Irish said. “How bad is this training ye all are up to?”
“Not bad,” Santos lied, walking up. “I’m the healer, by the way.”
“Right,” Irish said. Looking down at his body, he asked, “Do I get a top-off?”
“Not-” Santos got out, but Mav spoke up.
“Not till nighttime,” Mav said. "I'd like to build up your endurance a little bit." See if you can go a day without it. These two will need a bit to recover, but there’s no reason we can’t start training now.” He moved to the middle of the room. “Will, you first. Let Irish get an idea of what he signed up for.”
Will nodded. With Santos' constant healing, his body was not nearly as tired as it used to be. The morning spars were usually the worst because Mav wanted to train them to fight as soon as they were awake. Will hoped to never need the skill, but it had become his routine. Moving to the faded circle that most likely had a painting of the old school's mascot, he and Mav took stances a space apart from one another. Having become accustomed to the position, he spread his legs apart and clenched his hands into fists close to his face.
Making the first move, Will pushed forward. He acted like he was going to punch him hard, but phased behind Mav. His body transformed into light as he swiftly moved three feet and executed a roundhouse kick to Mav's back. At least that was the plan; Mav had already dodged and kicked at Will’s leg. Connecting with his knee, Will grunted and used the momentum of Mav’s kick to help push him away.
The old man kept up the attack. Defying his age, he took a single step and launched himself at Will. His power swelled out without being called, and Will shot to the side. When he reformed, he attacked Mav from the side. The impact of his fist on Mav's side felt akin to striking a steel wall. His bones creaked with the effort to not break, and he grunted as Mav backhanded him. The hand connecting with his face Will was thrown a few feet away and landed hard.
As he rolled out of the way, Mav stomped where he had been. Will twisted and kicked at him. “What have I told you?! Get to your feet!” Mav exclaimed, kicking his legs in an attempt to knock down the elderly man. Will groaned and phased up. To his surprise, he was standing as he formed a few steps from Mav.
“Good,” Mav said. “Let’s see how long you can last.” With a wild look in his eyes, Will pushed back his fear. There was nothing to fear. With a healer by his side, nothing Mav had done to them was permanent. It was only a momentary pain. Will gritted his teeth and punched at the man, only to have his fist meet fist. His wrist buckled and his hand opened involuntarily as Mav’s fist connected with his face. Mav quickly reminded Will that the pain was short-lived, but it still hurt like hell.
—
The day went like they always did. Everyone was beaten until they couldn’t stand, even Santos. After Mav approved, they could receive some healing, and the worst of the injuries were fixed. Though he had mentioned eventually breaking their bones in the spars, he hadn't done so yet. Bruises were common enough, though, so those were healed, and they went on their run.
Irish took all of it with a smile on his face. More than once, when Mav was pummeling him, he remarked how fun this all was. Will quickly learned to like the man. He made as many, if not more, jokes than Samson. Smiling, whistling, and trying to crack jokes at all times, he was a ball of energy. A far difference to each of them when they started, he had an impossibly deep pit of energy that he continuously pulled out of as they went from exercise to exercise.
The stretching was the worst for Irish, as it was all of them. However, when they transitioned to weight training, Irish's happiness returned. He always made sure to lift more than Samson, usually just barely more, and this enraged Samson beyond belief. But, to no one’s surprise, Samson thrived on the challenge. No one but Mav had been able to challenge his physical strength yet, and to meet someone just as into physical fitness, they started pushing one another beyond their normal limits.
The situation deteriorated to the point where they needed assistance to get to the cafeteria for their meal. As they limped and cursed each other along the way, Will began to understand why Mav had requested Irish food. He was fitting in way more than he could have expected. Will couldn’t help but compare himself to the man. If Will had been suddenly thrust into the group, he would have been quiet and slowly spoke more and more as he got to know the others. Irish appeared to thrive on the new interactions. He spoke at a rapid pace, captivating everyone with his wild stories.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“So there I was. Goons on me tail,” Irish said as they ate. "Granted, this wasn’t the first time I’ve run from them. However, this time, they were accompanied by an exceptionally swift individual. He had the ability to accelerate time, I assure you. Not as fast as you, Light, but still fast.” Irish had begun referring to Will as Light, just as Samson had done. It was a name that was slowly sticking, and Will kind of liked it, but he would never admit that to them.
“Anyhow, I blast him. He goes flying, and I’m looking at a good five to ten stretch at their Arc prison.”
“Arc Prison?” Katy asked. “They have one?”
“Of course,” Irish said. “They call it the Grave or something. Anyway, I give them the slip, just barely. I think me buddy, Tim, made it out. But I haven’t been able to get in touch with him yet.”
“Sounds about right,” Samson said. The others quieted. Their plates were mostly cleared off, and the big man looked around to double-check that Maven was gone. “Now the real question. What was the bounty you were talking about last night?”
Irish’s smile disappeared. “I told ye all I know.”
“What?” Katy asked. She had gone to bed already by that point.
“Tell her,” Samson said, nodding his head toward Katy.
Irish rolled his eyes, but he also looked around. “I’ve only heard about it,” he said. “A friend of mine is a bounty hunter.” Bounty hunting had become a big occupation since the Anarchist War. Since not every city had a group of Arcs to fight other Arcs, the Goons gave officers a budget to assign bounties to them. Will learned that a significant number of bounty hunters were either Arcs or retired Goons. They were people no one wanted to mess with.
"He stated that the first bounty poster he encountered was the highest he had ever seen. Happened after the war. There was a bounty of $100,000,000 for a man named Maven.”
“Maven-Maven?” Katy asked, looking in the direction the old man had left from earlier.
“No idea,” Irish said. "The bounty only contained the name and a description, not a picture. Said he was in his 50s, dark black hair the last time he was seen, and 6 foot plus for a height. No distinguishing marks, nothing.”
“Is the bounty still up?” Samson asked.
“No,” Irish said.
“I’m just curious,” Samson said with a wolfish grin. “Not like I could collect. The old man is like fighting…the earth.”
“Punching the ground?” Katy asked. Despite their spat, neither of them harbored any animosity toward one another. Mav's pummeling was a good equalizer for all of them.
“No…more like Mother Nature,” Samson said. “I swear every hit we get on him, the old man lets us have. Help our confidence. If he were to take us seriously, I highly doubt that we would cause him any harm.
“Hate to agree with you there, but I do,” Irish said. “I’ve fought Goons. None gave me a feeling like that, man. It felt as if I was confronting a hybrid of a tiger and a bear, possessing the ability to fire lasers and unleash devastating thunder."
“Not far off,” Ryu mumbled.
“Either way, I’m interested in what his story is,” Katy said. Will nodded, and they all turned as the old man walked in from the side hall.
“All done?” Mav asked. The group hesitated but began picking up. Irish followed, cleaning up after himself. Mav patiently waited and provided an explanation while they followed him out. “We will now be adding a new step in our training.”
"Oh, come on!” “What?” “Why?” People groaned.
“Shut it,” Mav hissed. The old man remained silent until they settled into the gym. Will felt a little tired after the food, but his mind was focused, and he was ready for yet another step in their supposed training.
“Alright, what have we reviewed on Arcs?” Mav asked, clapping his hand.
“They’re bad,” Samson said with a nod.
“Really bad,” Irish added, mimicking the nod.
Mav ignored them and looked at Katy. “What do you know about Arcs that you didn’t before?”
“Uhhh,” she said slowly. “Arcs can have similar abilities. They aren’t unique to each person. However, you could have a specialty in your Arc ability. Making it easier to do certain aspects of your abilities skill.”
“Good, next,” he said, looking to Ryu.
"Abilities typically mimic the elements or aspects thereof. Like fire and ice, or hot and cold.”
“What are some abilities I’ve taught you about?” Mav asked.
“Pyros, Aquas, Amps, Crumblers, Emos, Enhancers, Genies, Gravs-” Ryu said.
“Good, you remember the names. Those are the nicknames given by the Goons, so call them what you want. They’re pretty straightforward to know. Pyros control fire, aquas water, gravs gravity-”
"Oh, I have a buddy who can control gravity," Irish exclaimed.
Mav didn't react, but he looked at Will. “What else do you know?”
“Um, ardor?” Will asked. Mav nodded. “Ardor is the name for the energy that Arcs use to power their abilities.”
“Good, what else do you know about ardor?”
“It’s not infinite?” Katy offered as Will paused.
“Yes, and how do you control it?” Mav asked. That caused them all to pause. "How do you learn to use your body's energy to move your hand? You don’t; it comes naturally to you. You were moving your body naturally after your mother shot you out of her. You were kicking and screaming. All Arcs know how to control their ardor, if only rudimentary.”
William hadn’t thought of that before. One day, it simply clicked for him. He used his ability before he knew what it was. A power in his gut that appeared and brightened up his surroundings.
“What about it?” Samson asked with a frown.
“I’m getting to that,” Mav said. “Irish, give us an example of your ability.”
“Me?” Irish asked, surprised. Mav gave him one of those looks that made you feel stupid for asking. The redhead moved his hand to his pocket and pulled out a small rubber ball. It was about an inch in diameter. One of the bouncy balls Will had begged his parents for a quarter to buy at the mall. This one was a bright orange. “What about it?”
“Walk us through how your ability works,” Mav said.
“Alright,” he mumbled, thinking for a moment. "I, uh, push ardor?” He asked. Mav nodded. The old man had given him an overview of everything they had discussed so far during their run and other workouts. “I push my ardor into objects. They become supercharged, maybe. Then when they collide with something, they explode.” His thumb flicked the small rubber ball straight up. It didn't make it to the ceiling, but it headed down. When it struck the ground, it popped and exploded.
“Good,” Mav said. “As you all can see, the ball itself wasn’t fully destroyed. There are small pieces scattered all around.” The area where it had exploded had small black specks surrounding where it exploded. “He could charge the ball more and make it stronger, right?”
“Aye, I could layer more ardor on it. Just depends,” Irish said with a shrug.
“So, what does this mean?” Mav asked, turning back to everyone. Mav crossed his arms in front of him. Will looked confused from he to the exploded ball.
“What’s stopping you from pushing your ardor into other people?” Katy asked. The image clicked into place in Will’s mind. What if Irish had simply touched Will and made his head explode? Everyone had similar images in their minds as they turned to Irish.
“Nothing good happens,” Irish said, rubbing the back of his head. “I try not to do that.”
“Exactly,” Mav said with a smile. “There are Arcs out there that can push their ardor into you. Sways can control you with their ardor; a Charger like Irish can make you explode.”
“Wait, you said Charger Arcs could push energy into your body, giving it to you,” Ryu said, confused.
“I did,” Mav said. “But I said that many Arcs have their own talents with abilities. Irish’s talent actually makes things unstable. Forcing them to explode.”
“So there are a lot like me?” Irish asked. “My brothers always said I was practically born to blow crap up.”
“There are a few,” Mav said. “But ignore that for now. With Irish here, I want to begin your training on Control.” Mav moved up to Irish. Extending his hand out, he ordered, “Push some of your ardor into me.”
“You sure?” Irish asked, smiling wide. When Mav nodded, Irish took his hand and began to shake it. The enthusiastic handshake slowed down, then stopped. “It’s not moving into you.”
“Right,” Mav said, stepping away. “Something that most Arcs don’t know, Goons included, is a process called Control. Few people are aware that most ardors are incapable of mixing with each other. Even Chargers that give other Arcs ardor, don’t actually mix their ardors together; it becomes it’s own reservoir of power. So if you can learn to push your ardor all throughout your body, you can prevent others from using their ardor to enter your body.”
“Woah,” Irish said. “That’s a thing?”
“It is,” Mav said. “But it’s not an effortless technique to learn. We will be adding it to our normal regiment. Given your already busy schedule, I will allow you to sleep an hour later." Everyone groaned, knowing he was serious. “Quiet down. I anticipate that you will all be able to modify your ardor slightly before we proceed to the next activity. If you take too long, we will be here all night. Now clear your minds. Focus on that pit in your stomach that powers your ability. Hold onto it. Act like you are using it, and try to move it through your body. But instead of letting it flow through, you need to hold it in one spot, got it?”
Will didn’t get it. He had been practicing releasing all his ardor at once. Only manipulating a trickle and keeping it stationary were contrary to everything he learned. But he tried, sweating, and focused on his power with all he had. If people like Irish were out there, he needed to know this skill. All of them did.