Eye Of The Tiger II

The summer winds crossed over the verdant expanse of the Greythorne manor as the leaves outside the gates blew deeper into the courtyard. The sweet smell of freshly baked goods permeated the scenery as the workers hired by the clan patriarch had finally finished their task.

The once green courtyard was now paved with cobblestone, emitting a rather sleek and practical look. The ancient tree that once shaded the Greythornes was now replaced by four thick wooden dummies encased in a thin metal lining, to be used as either a target practice or a martial dummy. No longer will it be called a courtyard, but it was now a training ground.

Three figures sat on the terrace of the manor. All manner of books and scrolls lay precariously around them as teas and biscuits get served around by Ella.

With a dumbfounded sigh, Garth drops a large tome onto the ground, "Dude, what are we doing here? It's a been a few days already. Can't I take a vacation?"

His injuries have already been healed by Irwin a day ago. And, just as he was expecting to rest some more, his boss grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to read books. Although researching lore has been part of being a hunter for as long as the job exists, it didn't mean he would gladly do it for two days straight.

"Ha! Today's young men seem to have a shorter attention." Archibald mused, his eyes sporting a thin crimson eyeglass. "Back then, our father would've locked us in the library until we memorized every part of the werewolf lore."

"Easy for you to say, Archie. You're leaving tomorrow." Irwin muttered, exasperated by the sheer volume of said books, fingers kneading his aching forehead. Although it was his idea to hit the books, he didn't truly know how many books the Greythornes took with them on their travel. This was their second day and yet, only a tenth of the books have been read. "Take a five, Garth. We'll do another set after lunch."

With a loud whoop, Garth rushed out of the terrace and raced towards the front gate lest his boss changed his mind and subject him to another round of reading.

Ella snorted at the man's expression before sitting on his chair. Her blond lox draped over her forehead, hiding a part of her dazzling black eyes. "What's your purpose for doing this, Dick? I thought you hunters only read the lore of the monster you're currently hunting?"

Irwin nodded in confirmation. "We do. But over the past month, I had a first-hand experience that the lore has changed."

"Changed?" Archibald repeated bemusedly. He, of all people, knew that the monsters of this world changing their characteristics were impossible. Not only do they embody their environment, culture, and genetics, but their creator has also set the very nature of monsters in stone. "What do you mean by changed?"

Irwin cracked his neck, figuring out how to answer such a loaded question. "Well, for one thing, the Ancestor."

"What about him?" Archibald asked with a guarded countenance.

"Well, he's an Alpha, right?"

"Yes, of his pack."

"Exactly. I ran into a pack back in the Midwest. They had an Alpha, too, and he was strong. Stronger than the other wolves in his pack."

"That's... normal, right?" This time, it was Ella who had a quizzical expression on her face. "I mean, they're basically captivated by society, so these 'werewolves' are going to form packs to protect themselves."

"Yes, I know about the theory. What I'm getting at is that what I knew is that these fuckers only have one Alpha. And that's the top dog, the first Werewolf, the original Werewolf." He expounded, elbows on his knees.

A bewildered expression appeared on both Ella and Archibald's faces, scrutinizing Irwin's figure as they try to figure out what he was talking about.

Silence ruled the verdant patio for a while before Archibald broke it by saying, "Well, son, I do believe that pack alphas differ vastly from the Werewolf Alpha. Pack alphas, and their superior powers, are a gift by the Werewolf Alpha for protecting their kin. At least that's what the family believes happens whenever someone forms a pack. The Ancestor was a second generation werewolf- powerful, yes- but even he would bow to the might of the Werewolf Alpha. Is that what you're getting at?"

Hearing his words, Irwin revealed a smile that reached his ears, hiding the frustration behind his throat. "Yes, Archie! That's... that's what I'm getting at. I just need more information about it. About every other creature, because I may be... misinformed about them."

Knowing looks were shared across Archibald and Ella as the former requested some time away from the avalanche of books which Irwin gave. Leaving Irwin and Ella alone for the moment.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Asked Ella with great concern. "I know you're regretting letting them go on a vacation, so you can still delay them. Sir Archibald will understand and Peach-"

Irwin chuckled, waving his hand. "No-no. Let them be. They need it. Hell, maybe I do too. It's just... I'm gonna need a lot more time to prepare myself for this world. A lot of things don't make sense and, frankly, I don't have time to unravel it because there's a massive sword atop my head."

Ella smiled, her hands moving from her lap to Irwin's wrist, grasping it lightly. "Maybe. Maybe you don't need to unravel it. Maybe it needs to not make sense for it to work. And that sword atop your head would chop your head off, sure, but maybe you just need to wear a helmet, you know what I mean?"

Irwin gazed at Ella's striking black eyes, fully immersing himself in her features. 'Maybe this is why many great leaders fall before their time because of the allure of a companion who understands and supports you,' he thought. But Ella's words did strike a chord in Irwin's aching mind. Who was he to unravel the plans of God when he could not even take on a werewolf? Grateful for her words, Irwin responded in a low voice. "I suppose so."

"Hmm," Ella hummed in delight, seeing his face as she takes a few seconds, feeling the rough skin of his hand. For a moment, their gaze met, their eyes sinking into each other's form before Ella abruptly moved away. "Now, I have to go. Annalise needs my help packing."

She stood from her seat and walked away with hurried steps, leaving Irwin alone with his thoughts

●●●Ballroom●●●

A resounding thud echoed across the vast halls as the oak-wood chest landed unto the tiled floor. 

"Easy, child!" Admonished Archibald, hefting another of the chest. Unlike the other one, he gently placed it next to the other box.

"What the fuck are in these boxes‽" Irwin groaned, stretching his back until he felt a light pop. "It's just a two-week vacation. You're not moving in on a goddamn cruise ship."

Archibald huffed, "Please, child. Any less than these and we might as well go naked. Just this chest alone," He pointed at the chest he carried, "is for our trip to Sultan Alauddin's resort."

"Ah, of course, Alladin." Irwin rolled his eyes as if he would know who that is, nor does Richard, apparently.

Footsteps rang before them, interrupting their conversation. Annalise, wearing a grey silk jumpsuit, walked into the room holding the hands of a veiled Anastasia. Unlike their previous encounter, Anastasia was wearing a frilled dress, reminiscent of 18th century British fashion. Her beige pagoda sleeves flow brilliantly against her warm, fair skin. Her skirt, draped over a small crinoline, ever so lightly touched the ground. Irwin assumed it to be an artificial crinoline, but his thoughts soon extinguished as the bump magically flattens when she entered the room.

"I brought mommy!" Annalise's voice could reach the high heavens, exemplifying her excitement for their departure. "Look! Look!"

Light laughter rang around the room as they heard Annalise's excited squeaks. Archibald, in all his righteous admonishment earlier, could not help but be astonished when she saw her lover's form. His stride nearly broke the floor as he enveloped Anastasia with a warm embrace. The sound of their clothes ruffling each other's body elicited a disgusted expression from both Annalise and Irwin.

"My love," He whispered, caressing his lover's rosy cheeks hidden behind her veil, "My joy could not be measured seeing you join us for our adventure."

"Not the time!" She admonished, putting her gloved hands on Archibald's face and pushed it away. "What were the two of you speaking about?"

"Oh, my dear, my son wounds me. He still does not know of Sulat Alauddin of Johor!" Archibald answered indignantly, pausing to put his hands atop his chest.

What a drama queen!, they all thought.

Anastasia hummed, craning her neck towards Irwin. "You do not know of Sultan Alauddin Riayat Shah II, son of Sultan Mahmud Shah?"

"No! Why the fuck would I know about him?" Irwin responded quickly, expressing his frustration.

"He's an immortal, son. One of the youngest. Betrayed his country to the Portuguese, in exchange for an artifact to commune with the pagan." Archibald expounded.

Irwin's head tilted in curiosity. The only creature he knew that had been gifted immortality was Prometheus. "Really? What happened then?"

"He eventually succeeded, gave up his riches and the lives of his vassals at a chance of eternal life. Now, he lives in Bihar, India. Rich in a poor neighborhood. Bastard, if you ask me." Anastasia answered, adding her opinion of the betrayer.

"Huh. Interesting guy." Irwin was intrigued, yes, but he knew of the danger of pagan gods. Making a deal with them was worse than that of the devil. "Well, are you guys finished with your luggage?"

"No, this is just for the trip to Asia. I have three more chests I need to bring down." Archibald replied as he looked towards Anastasia. "Speaking of which-"

"I am a witch of old. My abilities deemed me worthy of serving the English Kings. Celtic druids bow before my prowess." She interrupted, the glare evident even beneath her veil.

Irwin laughed, "Stretch your back, old man."

"Oh, hush!" Archibald huffed at his son before leaving the room, mumbling all the way. Irwin joined him not long after before the man could take his joke to heart. It took nearly an hour for seventeen boxes half the size of an adult man. 

Prior to his arrival with Charlotte, Archibald planned to visit their old allies in the old world. Now that he had fully controlled his family and their asset, excluding the Greythornes that left the main family, he thought it time to use their money to broaden the political and social spectrum to which the clan operates.

Seeing as Anastasia was joining them, they had decided to tour south east Asia first. Given its affinity for mysticism and spiritualism, Archibald thought it best to have his lover enjoy her first vacation in a long while.

"Alright, that's the last of your things." He heaved the grey chest into the large RV. He gave one last hug to the ever-so-energetic Annalise. "Be careful, Peachy. Don't go too far away from your mom. And, remember, you're a Greythorne. We can kill anybody with a snap of our finger."

Annalise nodded solemnly, causing precious smiles around the group.

"Don't go putting ideas in her head, Richard." Admonished Archibald, wearing a mustard suit. "You be careful, alright? Always tell us when you're going on a hunt!"

With that, he enveloped his son in a warm embrace. The act surprised Irwin but returned the embrace in the same warm manner. He had forgotten the last time a father figure had shared an intimate moment with him, not even in his previous life. Although the hug lasted not but for a few moments, Irwin could not help but savor such a rare occurrence.

"I'll miss you too... dad." He replied absentmindedly.

Archibald chuckled as he left the embrace and helped Annalise enter the vehicle.

"So, you excited, Lady Ana?" Irwin asked, shrugging off the slight awkwardness of the hug.

"Oh, I am indeed. Even had used some of my rare collections for the Glamour spell." She replied as a shimmering aura appeared around her whole body.

"Yeah, I can see. You can walk now, too?" 

"Another spell of mine. Weakens my use of Fae magik, but for my sweet peach," she gazed lovingly at her daughter, who was having a hard time carrying a clearly over-loaded backpack. "I would do anything."

"We all do." Irwin added.

"Speaking of weakness. I heard from a pretty little bat that you've postponed your hunts? Where are you going?"

Irwin nodded. "I'm going to..."

●●●Santa Monica Pier●●●

"HAI!"

The roars of sweaty young men and women roared across the boardwalk. Their movements were agile, bordering on elastic, as they performed an intricate movement. A technique unfamiliar with Irwin. One that he hoped to learn.

Following Ella's suggestion, Irwin drove to her friend's establishment near the beach. He had hoped to learn to control his strength; and what is control but great restraint enforced with discipline?Though he was hesitant to enter the normal people gym being his strength greatly surpassing those of the normal man.

Still, he thought, might as well.

The shouts of the gym studio's students grew louder as he strode inside. His senses tingled not at the roars of passionate young men and women but from the smell of sweat and Axe body spray.

Twenty men and women of differing ages were dressed in thick padded armor- a gambeson, if Irwin guessed- and leather cuffs to protect them from the practice swords.

"Wait- swords?" Irwin, still awed by the ferocity with which these students swung their wooden swords, could not help but question their use. He had thought and told by Ella of the gym's purpose to be a training house for eastern martial arts, not a training ground for sword enthusiasts.

"Yes, swords," spoke a deep voice to his left. Before Irwin could gaze at the source, the voice continued. "We are the House of Blades. What you see now is basic movement techniques to create muscle memories. Once perfected, it will be easier to learn the way of the sword."

"Way of the sword?" Irwin then met the form of a dark-skinned man, half as tall as an oaken tree. His muscles rippled against his sleeveless vest, tempting even him in the man's delicious form. "Jesus, you look good. Will I look like you if I join?"

The man laughed, a boisterous yet solemn laugh, an enigma of emotion. "If you have my genetics, then I'd say yes."

Irwin laughed in return, walking closer to the behemoth in human clothing and took his hands out towards him. "Greythorne, Richard Greythorne."

"I know. Espinar, Joaquin Braganza Espinar," Joaquin clasped Irwin's arm in a tight shake. "Your employee, my dear friend Ella, called yesterday. She convinced me to take you on as a student, it seems."

"Well, she's a worry-wort. What I'd like is just some guide to physical fitness and maybe some fighting experience," Irwin explained as they walked towards what seems to be Joaquin's office, If not, then that would be weird since a painting of the man's almost naked body is hanging at the wall.

"Please, sit," Joaquin motioned, taking a seat behind the rather large dark office table. His office is a tableau of martial progress and conviction. Awards and trophies ranging from town-wide to international competition bejeweled the sparse office. Two golden scimitars placed atop the back wall, hanging like Damocles's something. "That she is. But by her words, her worries are well-founded. I can feel the strength behind those baggy clothes. Every step is made with hesitation as if the world were built by paper mache. You fear your power would consume you, your ego replacing any familiar emotion. Yet I see determination from your eyes, a will to survive. Survive what is my question, but one I won't ask."

Irwin clenched his fist as he heard the man's words. Confusion set in before realization dawned on him. What the man said was nothing but the truth. He looked back at his actions, his adventure during the witch hunt. He stood toe-to-toe with a powered-up zombie and few men could dream of beating up a demon in a one-on-one fight, more so to exorcise them. Then his memories took him to the werewolf pack hunt, where he was beaten black and blue. They had taken them by surprise and had the monster outgunned yet. "I see. Thank you for telling me."

Joaquin merely waved off his thanks. "But I still see apprehension in your eyes."

Irwin chuckled, "Yes, I do have... some. You're wise, more than a few men I've met before, and anyone would be glad to have you as their mentor, but I'm not sure you can handle me, respectfully."

Joaquin nodded, taking no offense. "Then let's cut the chit-chat. There is a sparring ground on the second floor. We'll have a private bout, just to see what we're both capable of."

He stood from his seat, his form now taking an even bigger form. Without waiting for Irwin's take on the matter, he had already walked out of the door. Irwin followed suit, his interest in the fight soaring greater as he saw how the once focused students of the House Of Blades immediately dropped their stances and bowed towards Joaquin. The students resumed their training as the two passed by them.

The second floor of the House Of Blades had the same design as the ground floor. Wood matted floorboard, removable wooden dummies, a sand pit at the center of the floor remains undisturbed. A rack of weapons, both blunt and bladed, lay to the northern side alongside a quarter-filled water dispenser.

"Nice, paper cups." Irwin muttered.

"My business partner is eco-friendly," Joaquin replied, clearly hearing the former's mutters. He took off his vest and placed it atop a removed dummy. Stretching his muscles in his arms and legs, he gazed towards Irwin. "Remove your sweater. We will fight unarmed. Three minutes for three rounds. This is a spar to see our capabilities. Understood?"

"I-uh... Yeah! Ok!" Irwin huffed and puffed in bewilderment, but, given the nature of the world he was in, thought it best to just go with the flow of the events. With that thought, he went to the other side of the floor and hurriedly took off his garments as his eyes scanned his opponent's half naked form. He now only noticed a pendant hanging off Joaquin's neck. A silver medallion depicting an eagle spreading its wings. Above the bird's head was a gilded word 'Traiana'. He pointed at the medallion. "That's a beautiful piece."

Joaquin cracked his neck and nodded. "Thanks. It's my grandfather's. A family heirloom."

"Must be antique."

"It is." Joaquin said curtly as he pointed towards the other end of the hall. "We start at the sound of that bell. Now, are we ready?"

Irwin, sporting an awkward grin, cracked his knuckles. "I suppose so!"