He might be disappointed to find out about her. Whereas she found great intrigue in trying to know more about Cyrus and his sister in that regard.
Chapter Six – Cyrus
The world hurtled toward change. Or at least the underground world that Cyrus found himself sucked into. A world where he needed constant training in his powers to make sure that he could actually keep up with scene. His main advantage – the fact that dragons just didn’t know how to take on something that was so alien and different from their usual forms, wouldn’t last forever. Even now, he suspected that opponents and their trainers would read up on him, trying to pinpoint weaknesses in his physicality.
Just like how long-necked dragons were very vulnerable to chokeholds if they overextended, or big winged dragons were clumsier on the ground, or bigger, heavier dragons didn’t have the mobility to match the speed of others.
Eventually, he would need to learn other methods of fighting. He would need to thoroughly understand his own personal weaknesses because opponents would know how to exploit them.
But he planned to fight for as long as he could. He needed to. He loved the thrill of the fight in all honesty. Finding an outlet for all that internal anger cooking within him. It wasn’t something he planned to do forever, but he kind of wanted to stick a middle finger to his father, earn a lot of money from the fights, and then retire and try and find something a little more respectable. For now, though, doing this would be his main idea of escape.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t injure him beyond recovery. Dragons could heal fast, especially when aided by magic. However, there were some injuries that were a struggle to come back from.
The training gym, or rather, an old boxing club that was repurposed for dragon sparring, was kitted out for practicing against other dragons. The trainer Cyrus spent a lot of money on was Balys Firetooth, a cantankerous old man who happened to be one of the reigning fighters back in the day. He still could likely take on most, but his old age would hurt him against the younger, stronger, heavier types.
Balys examined Cyrus as he strode in, not looking that impressed. “Your new hire’s already here,” he said gruffly, pointing at someone seated on one of the side chairs.
Sasha was already there for her new job. There’d been some running, some arranging, she needed to shrug off the job she been working at, and they needed to officially hire her. Then Aleera needed to get Sasha up to speed so she knew what to expect.
Now Sasha was here in the gym and Balys hadn’t kicked her out yet. Impressive. Cyrus examined the woman, taking in her green eyes, her smooth features. Feeling the tiniest of tugs at his heartstrings of just how damn beautiful she was. She acted like she had no concept of this beauty, even though she must on some level to be able to maintain herself so well.
How fascinating really. His pick had been a good one. Plus, he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to try and get to know her better. If maybe he wanted to forge a better connection with others, preferably beyond the supernatural circle.
“I didn’t expect her to be here so early.”
“Well, she’s here, asking questions, wanting to understand what exactly is it about you that makes you a better fighter than others. Useful to have her try to understand some of the concepts – and since she doesn’t have a prejudice for your form, it’s going to be an easy workaround.” Balys clapped his hands together. Dark eyes with a hint of gold glared out of his equally dark features. He still carried an air of menace around him, which made you not want to mess around with him and find out what exactly he was still capable of.
He waved at Sasha, who gave a beautiful grin and waved back. So, this would be the first training for her to witness. Aleera was fostering contacts elsewhere and also making it known that Sasha would be the point of contact.
He bowed to Balys, who pointed him to the middle of the ring. There, they both transformed – Cyrus into his mottled dinosaur-like form and Balys in a magnificent, red-and-black form with a short neck and a broad, barrel chest. A form that had won many a fight in the past. A form that won championships until he was injured, got embroiled in some kind of ancient curse, and then quietly retired from the scene to look after his family and train new generations of dragons. He stood on his rear legs and expanded his wings, red on the inside, black on the outside.
Good,Balys told Cyrus with his thoughts.For this, I will be trying to utilize your weakness – your turning speed. You are not as nimble with this, and if you fall, it’s a bigger struggle for you to get up. So, whatever happens, you must not fall, and you must not allow me to run circles around you.
Balys darted in like a snake, still fast for his age, and it took Cyrus everything he had to try and keep up with the blistering pace. His legs were enormously powerful – they were so much stronger than the average dragon – but he didn’t have the same balance in the front. If he fell down it took alotof effort to clamber back up on his feet again. In the past, Balys had tried to train him to get up as fast as possible if it happened, but even with the techniques he’d learned, it would always be a weak point for him to fight against.
The older dragon nipped and spun around Cyrus, who tried using his tail to punish the faster movements. He felt like a great lumbering beast, full of clumsy limbs rather than raw, frightening power as he tried to stop Balys from tripping him up.
You need to use your tail more aggressively. I get you’re afraid of unbalancing, but like this, it will only be a matter of time before I can bring you down.
Cyrus let out a passionate roar, mustering energy, before whipping his thick tail as harshly as possible. It almost knocked him off balance in the act but he succeeded in batting the older dragon away because of the sheer power and muscle put into it.
This was all the training consisted of for the next six hours, interspersed by small breaks and pointers from Balys. Most likely this training would persist even into the next month, as Balys wanted something like this to be as instinctual as possible. Even though Cyrus had an excellent fighting style now – even though in his last fight, he hadpretendedto struggle, to try and make the enemy dragon feel like they had a chance – he wouldn’t be able to continue this kind of fake fighting for too much longer. Just until people started cottoning on to what he was actually doing.
Then the fights would get more challenging. Deadlier. And if his identity leaked, he felt about two hundred percent sure that it would mean being completely locked out of the underworld by his father. He’d never again be able to make money in this sphere. In fact, it might mean phasing completely out of the supernatural world.
He tried to imagine that – having a normal life. A life where he didn’t fight, where he didn’t need to train intensively to make sure he was in optimal condition for each battle. To have to endure his family’s disdain every time they saw him, especially from his father. They spoke of an estranged uncle in his family, a black sheep who cut all ties with the family.
Now Cyrus was convinced that his estranged uncle had done the right thing for his own happiness. No one knew where he was now – somewhere on the other side of the world, living his best life with some human he’d chosen a long time ago.
You’re distracted.Balys charged at him, and almost took Cyrus down in a single blow. With some embarrassment, he fought off the older dragon and then held up his arms.
I’m done for now. My muscles are starting to get really sore.
Balys snorted.Fine. I could tell you were trying to show off for the human watching you. You have to be careful of that.
Cyrus morphed back into his human form, trying his best to not look too perturbed at that last comment. At least humans couldn’t hear the communications that went on between dragons in this manner.
“So, what do you think?” he said, dropping down next to Sasha, who had a notebook and had been scribbling in it along with a few doodles of his form for good measure. He raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t exactly the greatest artist around, but her drawings were recognizable.