The Enemies of Vengeance

by P. A Ross

  I looked down at the line of blood on the top of the wound. I could just take the magic away and let my body do all the work. But the goal was to drive my magic into my body, to accelerate its powers. I pictured sucking all the purple light back into the ball, and I could feel my body starting to follow its natural reactions. Then I drove the magic into the feeling of my body healing, driving it through and accelerating it.

  The blood on my arm sucked back into the wound. The flesh began knitting back together from underneath and closing it up. I breathed out a huge gasp of surprise and the alcohol-hazed out of my mouth and seeped through my skin. My head became less fuzzy and sobriety took hold once more. My arm healed up completely, and my body was free of alcohol and smoke.

  "Wow. That healed almost as quick as if I was already a Dragan," I said.

  "You did well. But it should be no surprise you can power yourself to that level. You are 70% Dragan after all. The correct use of magic will be enough to push you to that final 30%, if you ever need it."

  "So I don't need to become a full Dragan to get my full powers?"

  "You can use your magic to give yourself a boost. The further you become a Dragan, the more access you will have to the magic and the better you will be able to control it, and the better your genetics can accelerate to their full extent. Even with the focusing of your magic, you would still not be able to beat Thorn in your current level of transformation. You will need to be a hundred percent Dragan before you could manage that feat. Remember, Thorn was one of the first born and is the most powerful of all Dragans."

  I nodded in agreement and played with my glass, swirling the vodka around in it. "So what is next?"

  Rip looked out the window and then at his watch. "It will be light in a couple of hours. I wish to take a stroll in the moonlight. Go back to your hotel and sleep. Come back here tomorrow night once dark. Bring all your things with you and check out of the hotel. Tell them we have reached an agreement."

  "And then tomorrow I get to ask my question. And what else happens next in my training?"

  "Tomorrow night, we drink some more. That is your training."

  Chapter Twelve

  I walked back to the hotel as Rip wandered off into the countryside. I went up to my room and crashed out onto the bed. I had a headache from the excessive drinking even though I managed to burn it off, yet it still left a mark. I drank a glass of water and decided to get some sleep as I knew tomorrow night I would have to do it all over again.

  It wasn't exactly what I expected from the great Dragan warrior. I thought we would be sparring and him teaching me secret holds and moves, not trying to get drunk. Although, I did understand the reason behind his training methods. He was stating that the Dragan's greatest power was through the control of their magic. We did not need to fight to understand and learn it. I suppose getting drunk was just as good as any other way of learning how to control your power. As the lack of focus that came with getting drunk meant it had to become automatic in your mind after a while.

  However, I did hope we would put that magic to use in the form of fighting. I needed to prepare for when I met Giles again, as I couldn't just challenge him to a drinking competition.

  I slept well after my drinking bout. I woke in the late afternoon and went downstairs and ordered some food from the bar. I told the barman I would be checking out of the hotel as I had met my uncle and we had exchanged contact details. The barman looked surprised that my story had appeared to be true. I knew he would tell all the other customers tonight. It would give Rip the perfect cover story when he needed to leave with me. The barman grunted at me and brought me over my invoice as I ate my lunch.

  I settled my hotel bill and finished off my food. I wanted to head over to Rip's cottage and begin my training, but it was still daylight and he would be asleep. Instead, I decided to try a little bit of training on my own and ordered a bottle of red wine. From my bags, I pulled out my tablet and fired up my Kindle app to read for a while to kill time. I poured myself a glass of red wine, took a sip and focused my senses. I imagined a ball of purple light to simulate my magic inside. I then needed to feed it with my emotions to channel the magic to prevent the alcohol from being burnt away. I took another sip of red wine and enjoyed the taste. I wondered what I was feeling at the moment, what emotions I could use to control my magic.

  I had a background of different emotions. I still felt guilty about Scarlett and anger at the death of my father, but hopeful for the future, optimistic that Rip would teach me new powers to help end the war and bring order.

  I allowed those mixtures of emotions to fire into my magic and then focused it around my bloodstream, preventing the alcohol from dissipating. I got the feeling locked in my mind with the magic flowing into my body and alcohol rushing through my blood.

  I whiled away the next few hours with a couple of bottles of wine and reading until I felt quite drunk. Other customers visited the bar and the barman told them I had found my uncle. Their suspicions went, and some of them even smiled and nodded at me as they took their drinks to a table. I had been accepted into the town through association. I hoped that meant if anyone came looking for us, the locals would treat them with suspicion instead.

  The day moved on and I noticed the light starting to fade through the windows. I would go to Rip's cottage and show him I had continued to master the skills he taught me. I left the hotel bar and staggered down the street. The road ahead was swaying around as my feet misplaced each step. I stopped for a moment and leaned against a building to re-gather my balance.

  A few locals saw my drunken state and watched. I needed to sober up a little bit, so I pulled the magic back and began to feel the alcohol burn away and clarity return. I then used the magic to block my body from taking its natural course of burning away all the alcohol. It seemed to do the trick. I had sobered up enough to walk down the street without falling over and drawing too much attention to myself.

  During my walk and stop to sober up, it had become dark, and I knew Rip would be waking. I'd remembered the path from the night before and approached the field with his cottage at the end. I slowly climbed over the fence and then stumbled along the brown field to his cottage. I went to knock on the door.

  "Ah, I see you have been practising," Rip said.

  I spun around and saw him standing a few paces away. In fact, I saw a couple of him as my vision had doubled. He wore jeans, army boots and a black t-shirt, and he had tied his hair back and shaved. It was a stark contrast to the surf dude look of last night.

  "Yes, I enjoyed a couple bottles of red wine," I slurred while holding onto the door of the cottage to keep my balance.

  "Well, I was going to suggest a little drink and a little chat before we started your training tonight. You have beaten me to the drinking I see. Let's go inside and sober you up. And I will partake in a little glass of red wine to relax."

  I opened the door and staggered in grabbing hold of the table as I walked through. I shuffled around the table, pulled out the chair and slumped myself in it. Rip took a bottle of wine and two glasses off the side, and sat down and poured us a drink.

  I focused on my magic and let it retreat inside my ball of light, allowing my body to heal. I pushed the magic into the healing, and I leaned back in the chair as the alcohol fumes burned through my body and breathed out of my mouth. My body forced the alcohol out, and my T-shirt was drenched through in a wine smelling sweat.

  "So, do you feel better now?" Rip asked.

  I took a deep breath and sighed. "Glad to be sober. But I wanted to show you I could do it, and I had a little bit of time to kill."

  "Good. I know you probably think it's a mad thing to do. A strange way to train one's magic. But it is an important thing to control your body, and this is doubly so for you. As you are a hybrid, neither Dragan or Human, you could pass as either. The control of your magic can make you appear Human. And it could also make you appear Dragan. It would be useful for you to be able to act as one
when you are the other and vice versa."

  "You're right. I can go places and do things that other Dragans won't be able to. If I can also pass myself off as human by preventing my Dragan genetics from giving me away, then I have even more opportunities."

  "Good. You understand the true power of your magic and your unique circumstances. Now I believe you have a question for me."

  "I have several questions. What happened with you and the Twins and Thorn? Why is your hair greying and why do you have a scar if you have this amazing healing power? What have you been doing the last few hundred years? Are you in fact an alcoholic?"

  "Well, I see you have been thinking about it. I will only answer one question now, remember our deal, a question for a question. And as you have asked me so many, I will choose which one to answer. With regards to my greying hair and scar, I use my magic to allow myself to age a little to fit in. I've been living here for fifteen years, so I decided it would be unusual for me not to age during that time. At the local bar, I had once drunk a little too much and fell and cut my head open. I realised that I had to prevent it from healing to keep my cover. So I had to keep the scar on my head."

  "So every day you need to focus on looking this way and preventing your body from healing."

  "I've been doing it so long now, it's almost become part of my own image in my head. It has become almost fixed within my system. I would actually have to concentrate now to remove the scar and the greying hair."

  "So you can control the way you look? You can alter your physical features."

  "I suppose so if I focus my magic in one area in particular, then maybe I could alter it from the way I usually appear. In this case, I've only allowed my body to take its normal course without the interference of the enhanced Dragan genetics. But I have never tried to radically alter my appearance."

  Rip poured himself another glass of red wine and drank it down.

  "Now it's time for me to ask you another question to prepare ourselves for your werewolf training."

  I acknowledged him with a nod of the head.

  "I need you to tell me what happened in your fight with the werewolf. What did you feel? How did you fight? Why do you think you lost?"

  "Only one question at a time remember? Which one shall I answer first," I said and tapped my finger against my chin.

  "Well done, but this is for your own good. I will answer the rest of your questions later on."

  I smiled back still feeling relaxed from the drinking session.

  "I lost. The werewolf attacked, and I felt frozen to the spot. It sent a cold fear through me, like an innate instinct to run and hide. I knew I couldn't run, hence why I was stuck. Luckily, my Dragan senses kicked in, and I was able to fight him off. But I took a lot of bites and cuts."

  "It is scary the sight and sound of a werewolf charging in for its kill. I would guess your human psyche is to blame for the sudden paralysis. Humans keep clear of wolves, and werewolves are even more of a threat. Did Thorn ever teach you how to fight a werewolf?"

  "She never taught me to fight a werewolf. I have fought one before, but he was in his human form at the time, and so was I."

  "Did you win that battle?"

  "No, I lost that one as well."

  "So why do you think that you lost both these battles?"

  The memories of those battles flashed back. Giles's werewolf crashing through the trees and bowling me over. The sheer size and strength of the beast were too much, even in my Dragan form. Again Max was too big and powerful when we fought in his diner, the sheer ferocity and power of his attacks had me on the back foot. He tackled me to the floor and hit me over and over.

  "They were stronger and more aggressive. I couldn't prevent the momentum and power of their attacks."

  "So they were bigger than you and stronger. In which ways were you able to defend yourself or fight back?"

  "I was able to move quicker and be more agile. Against Max, I jumped out the way of his initial attacks. With Giles, I was able to get under him and push him off."

  Rip nodded and lit a cigarette. "Yes, the wolf is strong, maybe a little stronger than us. It is certainly more aggressive, and its attacks more direct and ferocious. But we are faster, more agile, and clearer in thought in a fight. The wolf's instinct is to go for the kill, a direct onslaught. So how would you defeat it? How does the smaller, faster and more intelligent animal win?"

  He had practically given me the answer and it seemed so obvious as he talked it through.

  "I use my speed and agility to avoid his attacks. Hit him fast and get out. Let him wear himself out."

  "Good. But it is unlikely the wolf will run out of energy. He may get clumsy and angrier, leading to uncoordinated attacks. You can use that to lure him into more mistakes to present you with greater opportunities. But what other advantage does the Dragan have over the wolf?" he asked and raised his glass of red wine and presented it to me. I picked up mine and we clunked glasses together. We drank together and I let the alcohol take its course holding back my healing powers. I put my glass back down and smiled at Rip.

  "Magic. I assume the wolf doesn't have the same ability."

  "I believe not. Even if they did, I doubt in their wolf form their thoughts would be clear enough to control it. So how would you use your magic to win?"

  "I would increase my speed and strength. I could heal quicker."

  "Yes. And which of our weapons hurt a wolf?"

  "Our claws and fangs, the supernatural powers prevent it from healing, as theirs does to us."

  "So what is it in our claws and bite, what gets into the flesh that causes so much damage?"

  "With the bite, I guess it's the saliva, and with the claws, it's the bacteria, part of our body gets embedded in theirs."

  "Yes, so we get stuck inside them. Parts of the claws stick inside and the saliva from the bite mixes in with the werewolf's blood and gets in the bloodstream, which affects the whole body."

  "So I should bite it if possible. Use my magic to increase my saliva and bite the werewolf."

  "Correct. Your claws and fangs should poison it, but don't drink its blood else you will poison yourself. Use your speed and agility to avoid its attacks and counter-attack with your own. Use your magic to accelerate your powers and maximise your poison. However, I should warn you that I have never had the opportunity to try out this strategy against a werewolf. And it is hard to remain clear of thought in the heat of battle. Don't fight on its terms and get involved in a battle of pure strength and size. It will win, especially if it is a full moon."

  "What if I have to fight Giles on a full moon?"

  "I would use the same tactics. Its main threats are its size and strength. At the full moon, these are just exaggerated. Your strength is your magic and ability to use the magic to enhance your existing powers. You are more agile. You will move faster than a werewolf. You are strong as well but don't have the aggression that the werewolf has when it has transformed. We do have rage and anger, but we have to incite it and feel the emotion of it. For a werewolf it is immediate, it is a red rage from the pain of being transformed."

  "Okay. So I use my speed and my brainpower to win. How can I train in the meantime?"

  "Drink up. Let's go outside and see what we can do."

  Rip poured back his drink and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. I downed my drink to keep up with him as he was heading out of the door. I followed him into the night, and he walked into the field that surrounded the cottage. He looked down at his wristwatch and then back at me.

  He pointed across the field to the fence line. "I want you to run as fast as possible and back, but without using any of your magic, just relying on your pure genetic strength. And then we will do the same again with your magic. Let's see how much of a difference it can make."

  I agreed and put myself into a starting position. Rip looked at his watch, and I waited for the signal. "Go," he shouted and swiped his hand down.

  I bolted forward, pounding
my legs up and down, pushing through with every stride to get maximum pace, pumping my arms up and down in time to my legs, breathing in and out, fuelling every stride. I skidded towards the fence line, tapped it with one hand and turned around and sprinted back to him. As I ran past, he pressed the button on his watch. "Excellent, thirty five seconds. Now take a moment to get your breath back, build your magic up inside and then we will try again using your full potential."

  I placed my hands on my knees as my lungs sucked in the air. I closed my eyes and pictured my purple sphere of light. I was exhilarated from the run and excited about what I was learning. I used those emotions of happiness and excitement to fuel my magic, expanding out my purple light. I was already picturing how I would channel that magic into my body, letting it flow into my limbs, pumping my heart faster to drive my legs.

  "Tell me when you're ready," Rip said. I gave him the thumbs up and stood back up into a starting position. A few seconds went past as Rip prepared his watch. "Go," Rip shouted and swiped his hand down.

  I bolted back across the field as I let the visualisation take hold, and the magic flowed into my limbs, pumping my heart faster. The ground beneath blurred and the fence zoomed into sight. I skidded again, but my momentum was much stronger than before and I barged straight into the fence knocking part of the wood out. My feet got a grip of the ground, and I sprinted back, letting the magic accelerate me to new heights.

  I sprinted past and he clicked his watch. Again I skidded onto the path just outside his cottage, kicking up a load of dust and gravel, pinging it into the front door.

  "Fantastic. Twenty five seconds," Rip shouted and flung both his hands in the air as if I'd won the gold medal at the Olympics.

  "Is that good enough?" I asked.

  "Is that good enough! Of course, it's good enough, it's nearly a third quicker. Imagine your Dragan powers thirty percent more powerful than before. If you can channel your magic directly into your strength, speed and psychic powers, you will be a force to be reckoned with. Now defend yourself," Rip screamed and charged.