Zorael stood over his table, working peacefully on his projects. Behind him laid Bootsie at her perch, tail twitching rhythmically. Skeletal models adorned the lab, each with elegant flow and fine bones of white ice.
A loud roar echoed through the palace.
“Nope,” Zorael said in response to the noise, without stopping his work or lifting his head.
“I’m not doing it.”
A loud smash was heard in the distance. Zorael froze suddenly, lowered his head with a gentle sigh, and snapped his hand in a dejected motion to repair the ice he knew lay broken.
As he set back to work, he heard loud footsteps thundering closer. The noise caused by the vicious stampede tore through the halls, until its source crashed through the lab’s doorway and poised threateningly at Zorael.
“Fight me!”, the beast roared.
“Not right now, Behemoth. I’m busy,” Zorael said calmly in reply, still fitting together the bones of a vaguely avian skeleton.
Having finally refined what he found to be a perfect musculature, Zorael couldn’t help but create an explosion of life with it. Built as a final test to push the muscle design’s power to the limit, Behemoth was by far the strongest he created. Named and modeled after God’s pet, this beast surged with power.
It resembled both an ox and a great ape. Strong hooves supported thick, short legs which stood proud as they lifted the beast. A long, thin tail ran behind the beast and ended in a thick tuft of fur. Wide hips and thick shoulders supported powerful muscles. Massive arms ended in mighty fists, and were coated in dense fur. A mighty mane colored a deep red flowed from its head down to the middle of its back. Mighty horns curled upwards, threatening to rip the ceiling apart. Striking fierce eyes and a thick snout adorned its face, sporting a snarl bearing fierce canine teeth.
“Why don’t you wrestle with Rahab?”, Zorael said dismissively as he tinkered with his bones.
“The snake is weak. I need a real test of my strength!” Behemoth replied, with the same strength as when he entered the lab.
Zorael turned his head back over to his cat’s perch as he spoke: “Bootsie, can you…”
He found the perch empty. Hearing a faint noise, he turned his head to the back door to see a shadow scamper through the threshold.
Zorael lowered his head and pinched the top of his nose, dispelling some of the pressure building in his head.
“Alright, alright. It’s my duty to keep you fit, anyway. Meet me in the ballroom.”
Behemoth arced his back and gave a victorious roar. He spun in a lunge and stampeded through the hallways, smashing against the side of the doorway and cracked the floor underneath him. Zorael walked calmly after him, swishing his finger around to mend the damage he passed.
As he entered the ballroom’s doorway, he found his creation pounding on the ground as he waited.
“You’re slow!” he bellowed as he noticed Zorael walking through.
Zorael calmly walked up to the beast.
“Are you ready?” he asked, shifting his weight to one side and letting his arms dangle at his sides.
“Strike!” the beast roared in reply.
Zorael closed his eyes. A short moment later, a torrent of water soared through the air, and stopped above the two in an oval ring. Small bursts came from Zorael’s left and right, and stopped just before hitting him. The water on his left formed into a kite shield, which bound itself to his arm and froze. The water on his right froze into a star tipped partisan, which he reached out and grabbed before opening his eyes. He simultaneously lifted the shield calmly up to his stomach, lowered his lance’s head to the ground behind him, and shifted his right foot behind his left in a slow movement.
Seeing the familiar signs of his creator readying for combat, Behemoth slammed his fists together twice before punching them both into the ground, preparing his body for sudden movement.
Zorael stepped forward, moving into a sprint. Behemoth responded immediately, lunging forward and raising his fist.
Zorael dove down, allowing Behemoth’s fist to shoot past him. Keeping his forward movement, Zorael shot back up and thrust his lance into Behemoth’s side. The lance shattered immediately against the beast’s muscles, with only a few shards sticking any deeper than an inch. Ignoring the strike, Behemoth reared back with a mighty cross punch. Zorael barely dodged with a spin, using swift footwork to aid in his defense. Behemoth threw a flurry of wild hook punches and hammerhand strikes, giving Zorael little choice but to keep his distance while he reformed a weapon. As he went on the defensive, he formed a saber above his attacker and sent it toward himself. As it flew, a deluge of water bolts flew at Behemoth’s thick hide. Though they seemed to have little effect, it provided just enough of a distraction for Zorael to rearm himself.
Armed with a sword and a shield, Zorael re-entered the fray. He dove and wove through his attacker’s strikes, waiting for him to make himself vulnerable. His chance came when the beast lost his balance after a backfist, exposing his torso to an attack. Zorael kept him off balance with a cannon blast from either side, and used the chance to dive inside of a massive hammerhand. An inward slice to the chest, and outward slice to the thigh, and a pommel to the ribs were all he could do before his weapon cracked. He leapt back to repair his weapon, only to be caught in an elbow strike. He shielded the blow, and used its energy to push himself back as his shield shattered.
As Zorael took several hops back, Behemoth charged forward. Zorael sidestepped the charge, and sent a mighty bolt of water to attempt to keep the beast off balance. Strong enough to shatter the glass under their feet, the bolts had barely an effect on the charging creature as he spun and restarted his charge. They danced for a moment, as Zorael attempted to rearm himself while avoiding being gored or trampled. Ineffectual bolts of water crashed through the air and splashed on the beast’s fur as he charged, doing nothing to slow it.
Behemoth spun as he rampaged, keeping his facing toward Zorael. Fully expecting him to dodge again, he allowed his water to bounce off him and gave another charge. As he did, the ground beneath Zorael exploded into mist, and obscured Behemoth’s sight. Above him, Zorael grasped hold of another saber, and thrust his damaged one into an awaiting orb of water. With a newly forged saber in his left hand and a freshly repaired saber in his right, he fell gracefully to the ground in a crouch, and spun to face Behemoth. Finding his prey, Behemoth spun to face him in turn. They both charged forward, clearing the ground between them quickly.
Long before they clashed, Zorael sent a dozen disks of water at Behemoth. Expecting them to crash against his hide, they instead froze around him, and spun so that their flat edge faced him. Instead of lunging at Behemoth, Zorael instead jumped on top of an awaiting disk, and lunged to a disk facing his enemy’s back. The disk pushed him forward, magnifying the strength of his attack as he struck the Behemoth’s shoulder. He landed on another disk, allowing him to shoot out again and strike at his ribs. He struck like this again and again, until his torso felt Behemoth’s palm.
He grabbed on to Zorael, raised him high, and smashed him against the ground. His back took the blow full on, locking his lungs from breathing. Unable to scramble to his feet, he was helpless as he watched Behemoth’s fist rise above his face. He slammed his fist down, smashing the ice underneath it.
Zorael sputtered in an attempt to catch his breath, as he watched Behemoth unlock his fist from the ground beside him.
He relaxed. The fight was over. There wasn’t any reason to go on.
Behemoth rose both his fists into the air, and gave a mighty roar which resonated through the hall. From the walls came echoing calls of the beasts caged in the rooms above them, hollering in response to Behemoth’s victory cry. Behemoth gave several more cries, slamming his fists and his chest, before he was satisfied with his victory. He lumbered away, leaving Zorael to recover.
He relaxed his breathing. He spread his water across the floor, smoothing the cracks and craters caused by the fight. He sent his water away to the ocean outside, and adjusted his robe. And as if what had happened was a common placed annoyance, he complained to himself as he left the room.
“Agh… He really needs a brother…”
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Originally Posted by stukasa
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