Clash of Men

by Damon Glatz

  There was a storm coming.

  Chapter Thirty-One:

  The Beginning

  Lance, and Nicholas’ horses began to circle around in anxiety. Ohitekah had not thought the Thunderbird would have been this close. The plains were hundreds of miles in all directions, and here was the Mythic, coming straight for him. His heart raced and began pumping adrenaline. Run away. That’s all he wanted to do. Just run away.

  “You can do this,” Red said quietly.

  But why? Ohitekah thought. It’s the Thunder Mythic. It never killed anyone before. It gives the people storms. It gives them life. It’s like the Wind Mythic, it’s one of the good ones, right? Like Red?

  “Because you need to!” Red snapped, answering his thoughts. Ohitekah was taken off guard by his volume. “This is the beginning of your destiny. You are going to be faced with a task no one else can do. This is not the end, Ohitekah. Not even close. You cannot see it yet, but we all need you. Everything has been leading to this moment, because this moment leads to your legend. The world is entering darkness and we need you, Ohitekah. You have been chosen. The gods, the ones on our side, chose you to represent them. They chose me to lead you here. Mankind is finally taking control of the world for ourselves and some of the gods will stop at nothing to destroy that hope.”

  “They want me?”

  “Yes. You will lead mankind to victory against the gods. We all need you.”

  The storm was coming closer.

  “What’s this nonsense?” Lance rode between them. “There is no war, the gods don’t need our help. Nor do they require it. They’re gods, what can we do to them?”

  “A god’s power on this earth lies only with their Mythic. Gods themselves have no power here. Nicholas had the Goddess of Water on her knees after the battle, begging him for mercy. The gods have been trying to take control of the world with their Mythics for thousands of years. We have been slaves to their will for an eternity. This is our uprising. This is our age. Some of the gods are on our side helping us bring balance. Others want us destroyed. There is a war coming, Lance. They will tempt us with power, but we must stand together as one.”

  “Give it a rest, Daisuke… You are not convincing anyone with your tall tale of an impending war.” He began to pace his horse back and forth. “You have always wanted the power for yourself. You hold no allegiance with any tribe, land, or reigning kingdom. You are a traitor to your own people, on a quest to collect the Mythic powers for yourself. If no one is going to stop you, then I will!”

  Red’s face changed from anger to sadness. “Have you learned nothing from this, or this journey? We four are at the brink of mankind’s ultimate strength and you wish to wallow in your misguided pride. You have the opportunity to be the hero your people deserve. They don’t need a dragon… they need a leader. Someone with the wisdom to bring them out of the darkness. If you fought for a just cause… the powers would be yours. But I cannot let you win them with so much evil in your heart.”

  “That choice is not yours to make!” Lance said, suddenly enraged. “You will hold to your word on what little honor you have left and you will meet a cold swift end when this day is over. Nothing else matters.”

  Red became quiet. “You will get what’s coming to you, Prince Lance of Ashland.”

  Lance gripped the hilt of his sword.

  As the first raindrops sprinkled Ohitekah’s face, the group fell quiet. Ohitekah scanned the clouds, the Mythic was said to soar at the front of the storm. Even if he did see it, how could he ever fight that high up? No arrow could ever be fired into this storm.

  “This is ridiculous,” Lance grumbled, staring at Red. The hate was seeping out of his body, he wanted to fight, and he waited long enough. “The bird that has never rested in over a thousand years? Never landed, never fought. How do you plan on killing this?”

  “Yes,” Red began, turning to face Lance once again. “It has never landed, never fought, never rested.” He spoke softly, “Maybe Mythics do get tired. Maybe it wants to rest, stop flying. Forever. Maybe the power becomes a curse, a never-ending burden that can only be cured by death.” Red lifted his head to the sky. “But before it goes, maybe it wants to have one last fight. It knows it must pass on its curse to another. The next must be strong, brave, and skilled... worthy. To the Mythic, it is not a fight to the death, but a test. A test you must pass. Red said as he turned his gaze to Ohitekah. “It is here.

  The clouds began to flicker a yellow glow. Soft thunder was echoing across the valley. The cool rain grew in intensity. There was a quick burst in the side of the clouds, like an arrow was shot through the storm.

  There it was: The Thunderbird, The Mythic of Storms.

  At first, he needed to squint to see it. The golden bird rocketed out of the stormy skies above him. Where the bird flew the clouds followed at their own pace. The Mythic spread its great golden wings wide and began to circle above them, moving at tremendous speeds. Storm clouds began to spiral above them, tracing the path of the Mythic. The winds picked up. The group, unwilling to move, became completely drenched in rainwater. The sun disappeared entirely.

  Nicholas stared in awe. “Well, I’ll be damned. There it is.”

  The bird glowed a radiant golden light, as if it had stolen a piece of the sun and wouldn’t let go. Out of the ends of its wings, streaks of white and yellow lightning erupted into the clouds and spread throughout the storm. Some of the bolts traveled down through the clouds and struck the ground.

  The horses began to stomp more and become afraid. Ohitekah took his things and dismounted.

  “Bolt, it’s time for you to go.”

  The horse shook his head and stomped.

  “No, you must. It’s not safe here.” He hugged his friend tightly. “Thank you so much, I would have never made it out of the plains without you. I owe you my life. Please, be safe.” The horse looked down, a beautiful wild mustang, brown and white. Bolt turned around and galloped away, out of the rain.

  “Shame,” Nicholas spoke quietly to himself. “Damn good horse.”

  The storm grew larger and darker, spinning in the sky high above them. The bird appeared in the center of it, holding its wings broadly out to its sides. It was magnificent. The Mythic slowly descended out the eye of the storm. Its wings never flapped, only lowering itself down from the heavens as if by magic. No one dared to move. As it grew closer its size became more impressive. The wings alone were the size of Vatnic sails. The bird appeared golden, yet up close it seemed its feathers were a rainbow of glittering colors. The beak was yellow, long, and pointed. It looked as if it could stab clean through a building if it desired.

  It landed right in front of Ohitekah.

  For the first time in thousands of years, the Thunder Mythic touched the earth. It was close enough for Ohitekah to fire a shot, but he was afraid to. The bird lowered its feathered head and studied him, looking him up and down.

  What is it doing?

  It was just like Lance said. Before the fight, the opponents study each other for weaknesses and form a strategy. Ohitekah took a hard look at the Mythic. It was big, very big. Standing on the ground it was the size of a castle wall. Its feathers fluttered in the quickening winds.

  That should make it easier to hit than the serpent scales. Are they magic feathers? Maybe just as hard as dragon scales?

  They did not look it. They blew in the wind like any other feather. Besides the fact that it could shoot lightning, it seemed as if Mythic this Mythic lacked a physical defense.

  Ohitekah wondered what weaknesses the bird saw in him; a young man with just a bow and a sword, a sword he barely knew how to use. He wore no real armor, just furs and sewn clothes. Maybe he was not ready, not the one, not worthy. Certainly, the men behind him would be more of an adversary. He wondered what the bird was thinking as he stared at them.

  Daisuke, already a Mythic, would put up the strongest fight. But he is a man of honor and would never fight without reason, he knows his place. I w
onder what powers Daisuke is keeping hidden, suppressed, in fear of losing control. What could he do if pushed to his limits? But Daisuke would never win this fight, he lives in fear: fear of what he can do, what he has done. He cannot let go of his past. It would consume him, he can never tap into his true potential.

  The Bird shifted its gaze and studied Nicholas.

  Nicholas, recent king of the Vatnics, conqueror of the Water Mythic. Impressive history. The man the gods forgot. He would be a worthy fight; strong, skilled. He would not fight though for he does not seek power, only vengeance. Still, Nicholas would lose. He lost his drive after his last battle and is not motivated any longer. His strength comes from purpose, and there is none left in him.

  The Mythic looked at Lance for a moment.

  Lance, Prince of Ashland. This man fights with rage, pride, and ferocity. He has potential for greatness, but it is clouded with anger. Victory is impossible for him. His thoughts and actions have a darkness that only makes him weaker. He is not lost, not yet, but the light is faint.

  Finally, the Thunderbird locked eyes with Ohitekah.

  Ohitekah, why was he chosen? He is not stronger, faster, or cleverer than his friends. None of them are worthy. None of them can win this battle. Why Ohitekah? What makes him different than the others? Can none of these men end my suffering? He is not a fighter. He only brings light to those around him. He is just like I was. Perhaps he has strength yet untapped. Perhaps this is his chance to prove himself worthy. If he falters, or questions himself, for even a moment, he will fail. Who is this boy?

  This boy from the plains.

  The bird lifted his head and made a loud cry, Ohitekah had to cover his ears. It was ready. Ready to test him. It made a large flap of its massive wings and the gust lifted Ohitekah off the ground and threw him back.

  This is it. Ohitekah thought. No holding back. Fight to the end.

  Ohitekah landed on his feet and drew his bow from behind him, not missing a beat. He fired a shot directly at the Mythic, it flapped its wings again and blew away the arrow with its gust. It lifted itself off the ground and soared into the sky. It was still in range. Ohitekah fired again, and again. The bird agilely whipped through the air, dodging the arrows.

  Ohitekah realized he was mistaken, he was wrong about this Mythic. It is different from the others. That’s how this Mythic fights. It’s like a samurai. The Water Mythic uses its armor and heavy scales to deflect and absorb blows, just like a Vatnic warrior. It did not need to be fast. The Thunder Mythic has no armor, no scales, it uses its speed to evade and dodge attacks. It waits for its opening to strike quickly. The only way to beat a samurai is not in strength, but in skill and speed. That’s how the bird can be beaten.

  “Good, good,” Red said to himself. “He is watching, learning, adapting.”

  “He needs our help.” Nicholas dismounted, drawing his sword.

  “Not yet.” Red lifted his hand “The bird is still testing him, not attacking yet. Let the boy learn first.”

  With a frown Nicholas stayed where he stood, watching his friend fight the legendary Thunderbird alone.

  The bird was too fast, it was evading too easily. As Ohitekah fired his arrows, the large bird effortlessly moved through the air with a sense of grace that made it impossible to land a hit. Ohitekah tried to think fast, changing tactics. He readied two arrows, aimed, and fired both at once. The Mythic dodged the one, but in the movement was hit by the second. It let out a cry that shook the heavens.

  “A direct hit! Oh, now it’s angry,” Nicholas said, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

  Bolts of lightning struck the ground from the clouds above. It was as dark as night now. The lightning flashes blinded Ohitekah’s eyes. The winds picked up. The bird started to make passes directly over him, dragging long streaks of lightning from its wings that charred the earth around him. Ohitekah ran as fast as he could and dove to avoid getting struck. The Mythic spiraled into the sky and hovered away from him. It stretched out its wings as wide as it could.

  The movements reminded Ohitekah of when the Mythic of Water would charge itself before attacking.

  It’s preparing a strike.

  There were loud bangs of thunder above the bird. Huge blinding bolts of lightning were fired down from the storm clouds and struck the Mythic. Several of these bolts electrified its body, allowing the bird to absorb the electricity. The thunder stopped and the Mythic let out a cry, blue and yellow static pulsing all around itself. It was fully charged and ready to fight once again. The Mythic swooped down straight toward Ohitekah, firing a bright, thick lightning bolt from its mouth directly at him.

  It expects me to hide.

  Ohitekah stood his ground and fired as many arrows as he could at the attacking Thunderbird, striking its face and body more than a few times. At the last second, he rolled to his side and narrowly missed being hit. The Mythic seemed to be aiming where he was, not leading his strikes to where Ohitekah would be. Ohitekah reminded himself to keep moving to avoid getting hit.

  The Mythic must not be an experienced fighter. Ohitekah thought. Any archer knows you have to aim ahead of your moving target, but how long until it figures that out?

  The Thunderbird now had several arrows stuck into it. It was hard to count exactly how many in the rain. It raised itself up to charge for another attack, absorbing thunder from the sky. This was the best time to strike.

  Ohitekah ran forward and fired arrows directly at the stationary target. Before it had a moment to summon the lightning strikes, it was littered with arrows. Ohitekah knew this was his last chance to fire at the Mythic before it made another pass with lightning, he may not get another lucky dodge. He fired every last arrow he had.

  The bird let out a cry and began to fall from the sky, lightning streaked across the heavens. There was a crash of thunder directly above him.

  Ohitekah did not know what happened, he opened his eyes in a daze. He coughed and tried to get back up, the wind was knocked out of him and his ears were ringing. He reassessed the battlefield, he was on the ground, but so was the bird. It had crashed and fell on top of a hill in the distance. It seemed hurt and now unable to fly. Ohitekah stood up, from what he could remember it seemed like the bird summoned a bolt of lightning above him but somehow missed. He turned around to see where the bolt struck behind him only to see Nicholas, lying on the ground, not breathing.

  “No!” Ohitekah ran over to him. Nicholas must have pushed him out of the way at the last second. Red ran over as well. He leaned close to his chest and heard a distinct heartbeat.

  “He is alive, do not worry. Focus on what you need to do!”

  “I need to help my friend!” Ohitekah shouted, he began to breathe heavily.

  “Listen to me. He is fine. He is still breathing, and I will tend to him.” Red paused. “You are out of arrows, but the Mythic is grounded. Trust your sword.”

  Ohitekah nodded but said nothing, he looked to Nicholas who was lying motionless on the ground. He then glanced at Lance, still on his horse. He was watching the Mythic intensely, not paying any second thought to the wounded Vatnic.

  Ohitekah stood up and looked for the bird. It was picking itself up on a hill in the distance. It was unable to lift itself off the ground. Lightning was striking the earth all around it. Ohitekah let out a long yell. He threw his bow to the ground and ran towards the bird, sword drawn.

  That’s what makes him different, the Mythic thought. Thw Thunderbird struggled to stand, but if the boy can still fight, so could I.

  Ohitekah only had a few weeks of practice with Red, but it had to be enough. He had to be perfect. Whatever mistakes he had made, whatever he had learned, it all comes to now. He had to be perfect.

  His courage does not come from a lust for power. The Mythic thought.

  Ohitekah stood in front of the bird, holding his sword to his side similar to Red. “Mythic of Thunder!” he shouted.

  He does not fight for vengeance, or honor, or pride.


  “If you do not want to fight any longer, I will leave now.”

  He fights for his friends.

  “But if you are what they say, if you seek eternal rest, or if you are looking for a successor to fight in some future war…”

  He fights for what is right.

  “I will take that place and give you what you desire.”

  His courage is what makes him stronger than the rest.

  “But I need to know if that is the true reason for of all this.”

  His humility...

  “If I was truly chosen for this task…”

  He is perfect.

  “Then you need to tell me!”

  I cannot win.

  “Give me a sign, turn back now if you want to live. Leave here now if this whole quest is misguided.”

  I cannot win.

  “But stay and fight if they are right! Fight me now with everything you have and prove to both of us that this is our destiny! Right here! Right now!”

  Ohitekah could feel his body surge with energy. His knuckles turned white gripping his katana.

  “Because if that is my fate, then I will do everything I can to beat you!”

  Ohitekah studied the eyes of the Mythic, eyes old as time. They looked tired.

  “This is bigger than both of us... and I just want to go home again.”

  Then so be it.

  The Mythic let out a loud call from its beak as it issued the final challenge. It was not backing down. Ohitekah gave it the chance to leave. He needed to give it that chance to prove to himself that this was how things needed to be, to prove that Red was right. The Mythic was testing its successor. The Thunderbird reared its head to stab at Ohitekah. He could feel the wind from the strike as he sidestepped it just like Red taught him. The beak was too heavy and strong to block, and Ohitekah was wearing no armor, so he had to dodge. He had to be faster than ever before.

  He swung at the bird’s beak, but the blade deflected off it. It was stronger than he expected. The bird stabbed again, and Ohitekah thrust his body to the side to evade. He swung again at the beak, but it was too hard to wound.