Demi-God

Lucian and Mira walked briskly down the street, trying to appear as normal as possible despite their racing hearts. The sound of approaching guards made them both tense.

"Quick, hold my hand," Lucian whispered.

Mira balked. "What? Why would I-"

"Just trust me."

Hesitating for only a moment, Mira laced her fingers through his just as the guards rounded the corner.

"Stop right there!" one of them called out.

Lucian turned, plastering what he hoped was a casual smile on his face. "Is there a problem, officers?"

The guard eyed them suspiciously. "What are you two doing out at this hour?"

"Oh, my girlfriend and I were just taking a late-night stroll," Lucian replied, gesturing to Mira.

The guard snorted, looking Mira up and down. "Girlfriend? Yeah, right. Like you're getting a hottie like that."

Mira bristled at the guard's words, but quickly caught on to Lucian's ruse. She stepped closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Excuse me, I heard that. And yes, he is my boyfriend." To Lucian's surprise, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going on our walk."

The guard's eyes narrowed. "At this time of night? Seems suspicious to me."

"It's none of your business when we choose to take our walks. Are we breaking any laws by being out here?"

The guard opened his mouth to retort, but his companion placed a hand on his arm. "Come on, we've got more important things to deal with tonight. Let the lovebirds have their walk."

With a final suspicious glance, the guards moved on, continuing their patrol.

Lucian let out a breath. "Nice acting," he murmured.

She smirked. "You're not so bad yourself. Now let's get out of here before they come back and start asking real questions."

They hurried away, still hand in hand, both acutely aware of how close they'd come to disaster. As they disappeared into the shadows, neither of them noticed the figure watching from a nearby rooftop, tracking their movements.

As they hurried along, they kept glancing over their shoulders, wary of pursuit. Their focus on what lay behind them left them unprepared for the danger that stepped out of the shadows ahead.

They jerked to a halt as a figure blocked their path. Lucian's blood ran cold as he saw the glint of a dagger in the man's hand. Was this one of the assassins from Theo's apartment?

"Good evening," the man said.

Lucian and Mira remained silent, eyeing the stranger.

The man continued, undeterred by their silence. "I've been tracking both of you since you left that apartment. I believe that you two have something I want."

Lucian's grip on Mira's hand tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about." He tugged Mira's hand, attempting to retreat, only to find their escape cut off by two more cloaked figures.

The first man spoke again. "My name is Demosthenes, and that necklace the girl possesses is very valuable to me. I'd like it back."

Lucian's mind whirled. It was strange for an assassin to reveal his name. Something didn't add up. He decided to test the waters. "If we give you the necklace, will you let us go alive?"

Demosthenes' lips quirked in a humorless smile. "I'm afraid I can't guarantee that."

"Then we're not going to give it to you."

Mira shot him a look of disbelief, but Lucian stood his ground. He knew they were in danger either way - at least this way, they had something to bargain with.

"Too bad," Demosthenes said. "I would like to resolve this in a civilized manner. Very well then. I’ll give you a choice. There are only two options here: either you give me the necklace, or I take it by force."

"Either scenario, we leave here dead."

"That's for you to decide."

Lucian leaned close to Mira. "Do you have any weapons on you?"

"No. I didn't exactly plan on running into assassins tonight."

"What will it be?" Demosthenes called out.

Lucian desperately searched for a way out. His powers were useless in this scenario - what good would possessing a nearby rat or pigeon do against armed killers? They could try to fight their way out, but without weapons, they'd be cut down in seconds.

They were outnumbered, outarmed, and quickly running out of options. He glanced at Mira, seeing the fear she was trying to hide behind a mask of defiance.

"We need to buy some time," Lucian murmured. "Follow my lead." He raised his voice, addressing Demosthenes. "Before we make any decisions, I have a question. This necklace - what makes it so valuable that you're willing to kill for it?"

Demosthenes tilted his head. "Curiosity in the face of death. Interesting. But I'm afraid that information is not for sale."

"Come now. If we're going to die for this trinket, don't we at least deserve to know why?"

As he spoke, Lucian's eyes darted around, searching for any possible advantage. The narrow alley he'd spotted earlier still seemed like their best bet, but they'd need a distraction to have any hope of reaching it.

Mira, catching on to Lucian's stalling tactic, chimed in. "Is it magical? Does it grant wishes or eternal life?"

Demosthenes chuckled. "Your imagination does you credit, my dear. But I'm afraid my patience is wearing thin. Make your choice - now."

In a sudden burst of movement, Lucian lunged forward, aiming for Demosthenes. The assassin, anticipating the attack, swung his dagger in a wide arc, forcing Lucian to stumble back to avoid the gleaming blade.

"Mira, run!" He shouted. "Get help!"

She hesitated, confused. "What? Why would you-"

"There's no time to argue!" Lucian cut her off. "Go! Now!"

Torn between fleeing and staying to help, Mira finally turned and sprinted away. "I'll get help!" she called over her shoulder. "Hold on!"

Demosthenes moved to intercept her, but Lucian threw himself in the assassin's path, blocking him from pursuing Mira. Now surrounded by all three men, Lucian's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

"What you did was monumentally stupid," Demosthenes said. "You've just ensured your own death."

Lucian forced a cocky grin. "Let's see about that."

"Pretty confident for a man about to die."

"Enough talking," he spat. "More fighting."

But even as the words left his mouth, a cold realization settled in his gut. He had no plan. No weapon. No backup. He'd acted on instinct to save Mira, but now he faced three armed killers with nothing but his wits and his fists.

Lucian wondered if he'd just thrown his life away for nothing. But even as fear threatened to overwhelm him, a small part of him refused to give up. He'd faced impossible odds before. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way out of this too.

The assassins began to close in. Lucian darted between them, searching for any weakness, any opening he could exploit. There was nothing.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice rang out from the darkness.

Everyone froze, heads whipping around to locate its source.

Drakon emerged from the shadows, his weathered face set in a wry grin. "Here I am, about to head home, and I stumble upon your sorry ass being hunted by assassins."

Relief flooded through Lucian. "Old man! Am I glad to see you. A little help here?"

Demosthenes sneered, eyeing the newcomer. "Who's this, your grandpa?"

"I'm his teacher," Drakon said. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to make yourselves scarce, I'm willing to forget everything that happened here."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kick everyone's ass."

A burst of laughter escaped Demosthenes. "In case you haven't noticed, old timer, you're outnumbered."

A predatory smile spread across the old Spartan’s face. "I know. Pretty bad odds... for you."

"That remains to be seen."

"Oh, I’ve already seen it. My foot in your ass."

Tension crackled in the air as the two groups faced off. Lucian, still surrounded by the assassins, felt a surge of hope. He'd seen Drakon fight before, and he is far more dangerous than he’d appeared.

Drakon's eyes met with his pupil, and a silent understanding passed between them. Without warning, Drakon sprang into action, moving quickly.

He closed the gap between himself and the nearest assassin. The attacker lunged with his dagger, but the old man dodged each strike before seizing an opportunity to grab his wrist and twist it, effectively disarming him. The man's weapon clattered to the ground as he howled in pain. Drakon then delivers a powerful knee strike to the assassin, sending him toppling to the floor.

In a moment of distraction, Lucian quickly sprung into action and lunged towards the next assassin, delivering a swift kick to his abdomen. The man stumbled backward and attempted to counter with a lunge of his own, swinging his dagger in the air. But Lucian was too quick, dodging the attack left and right before he swiftly drove his fist into the assassin's solar plexus, causing him to double over in pain. With one final strike - a powerful side kick - Lucian finished off the attacker, sending him flying through the air before crashing onto the ground.

"See," Drakon said. "I told you you're outnumbered. Now, I'm giving you the chance to give up."

Demosthenes' lips curled into a sinister smile. "On the contrary, the fun has just begun."

In a flash, he produced another dagger from beneath his cloak. Before anyone could react, he lunged forward, both blades slicing through the air in an arc towards Drakon. The old warrior's eyes widened as he stepped back, narrowly avoiding the steel.

But Demosthenes wasn't finished. As Drakon evaded the daggers, the assassin's leg swept out in a vicious kick. Caught off guard by the unexpected move, the old warrior couldn't dodge in time and the foot connected with his face, sending him staggering to the side.

Lucian watched in shock, his mouth hanging open. In all their time of training, in all the fights he'd witnessed, he had never seen anyone land a blow on his master. Drakon always seemed untouchable, invincible. But now, he stumbled, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: Demosthenes was no ordinary assassin. This man was a skilled fighter, possibly even on par with his teacher. The danger of their situation suddenly felt far more real and immediate.

Drakon regained his footing, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand as he reassessed his opponent. The playful glint was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look that Lucian had rarely seen.

"Well. It seems I underestimated you. A mistake I won't make twice."

Demosthenes twirled his daggers. "Good. I'd hate for this to be too easy."

As the two circled each other, looking for an opening, Lucian couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get much, much worse.

With a snap of a twig nearby, Demosthenes started with a lightning-fast high kick, which Drakon managed to block with his forearm. But Demosthenes didn't let up, immediately following with a round kick that forced Drakon to duck.

As Drakon lowered his head, Demosthenes' daggers flashed, arcing through the air in a deadly dance. The old warrior twisted and side-stepped, the blades missing him by mere inches.

Seizing a momentary opening, Drakon counter-attacked. His fist shot out in a straight jab, followed quickly by another. Demosthenes weaved back, the punches whistling past his face. Drakon pressed his advantage, launching an uppercut aimed at the assassin's chin.

But Demosthenes was ready. He backpedaled swiftly, Drakon's knuckles grazing his beard as the punch fell short. Without missing a beat, the assassin retaliated, his daggers slashing in from both sides in a vicious pincer movement.

Drakon, still off-balance from his failed uppercut, managed to twist away from the blades at the last second. A look of triumph flashed across his face – but it was short-lived.

In a move that defied belief, Demosthenes suddenly launched into a backward somersault. His boot caught Drakon squarely under the chin, snapping the old warrior's head back with a sickening crack.

Lucian watched in horror as his master stumbled backward, blood spraying from his mouth. Drakon's eyes were wide with shock – whether from the pain or the unexpectedness of the move, it was hard to tell.

As Demosthenes landed, a predatory smile playing on his lips. "Not bad for an old timer," he taunted. "But I'm afraid you're out of your league."

Drakon spat a mouthful of blood onto the cobblestones. "We'll see about that."

The fight had taken on a new level of intensity. Lucian wanted to help, to even the odds, but jumping in might do more harm than good. All he could do was watch and wait, hoping his master could turn the tide.