Chapter 91

I spit the blood from my mouth, my own mind betraying me, driving me to push in harder, stronger, more aggressively. It had only been a couple of hours on this attempt, and I needed to cull a bit of the impatience, or I would never succeed.

When I had initially approached Wisterl, she immediately settled into a comfortable stance, but regardless of her apparent comfort, I saw that no matter where or how she stood, Wisterl was constantly ready to spring into action. I was sure I'd never noticed that before, but I couldn't imagine that this was a new habit of hers. Before I entered her immediate range, I stopped and waited for her acknowledgement. Not only could she simply decide to attack me for any perceived slight, but I wanted to be on her good side when I asked her for a favor that would at least, and could take well over three days.

Wisterl watched me, her eyes scanning me up and down while seemingly evaluating whatever it was she was looking for. Then, with a somehow approving flick of her tail, she addressed me. "You've changed in this little time. Finally got a taste of the world?"

"I suppose I did," I hedged, "I've spent time with Redael, and the Swarm Alpha doesn't permit weakness or excuses of being unprepared."

Wisterl's already smirking face cracked with a wide grin at my words. "That he doesn't. Now, you've got something to ask me. I have a price for questions. Fight me first."

I felt a wry smile touch the corner of my face. "If I have my request granted, it'll be more than just one fight we have."

She perked up. "Not often many ask me for more fighting. I'll disregard my rule. Tell me now." 

"For at least the next three days, I'm going to need someone to help… keep me in line. I'm doing something that will make me need to fight all the time, and you're the only one that can keep me from doing something stupid to the swarm while I'm like that."

Wisterl spread her jaws wide open in an understanding expression. "Ah. You're just like your sire that way. Did you know he asked me the same thing back when he was first the Swarm Alpha?"

I tried to shake my head enough for all this to make sense. She just up and said that Redael was my father? And that he might have an advanced, or even more advanced version of [Bloodlust] than I would after this [Skill] evolution? "Why… why would you say that the Swarm Alpha is my sire?"

She cocked her head to the side, disbelieving. "Look at you. You're his bleeding image. Same color and everything." Wisterl rolled her eyes, "I guess you've never seen his color. But the rest of you is just like him anyway. His spawn is sure to rise to the top, they always have before. But none have come to me like him and you have." The mostly jovial nature and attitude Wisterl commonly showed drained from her face, and her eyes, usually searching but casual, became cold, calculating, and absolutely focused on me. "You want to take his place. Maybe someday, but not now. You will die, just like all the rest have if you attempt it." The severity drained from her face, and again all I saw before me was a battle-crazed warrior.

"But I don't care about what might happen later. For now, I have a partner. Follow me."

She led me to an unoccupied den, and every step of the way, I made sure to keep some distance between the two of us. After all, she obviously enjoyed inflicting pain at least nearly as much as she enjoyed combat for combat's sake. The entire journey there, though, was uneventful, and upon arriving at the den, empty of keelish and any other sign of life, Wisterl stalked to the opposite side of the den and whirled around, looking at me and waiting for me to enter and begin this new training. I activated [Bloodlust] and ran in. 

…

The time I spent with Wisterl passed in a blur of pain and adrenaline. I could never best her, never even begin to, but I could feel myself growing ever more competent and confident, my responses to her attacks becoming more natural and effective. What had begun as a one-sided beatdown was slowly transitioning to short exchanges of blows that I always left as the loser of. The rage that built within me was constant, and nearly overwhelming. My first attempt had ended in failure when I needed to rest at the end of the day. While I had slept, the [Bloodlust] had faded from my mind, and the counter hadn't gone up after. 

After that first, great failure, I had spent the whole next day just as enraged at myself as from the influence from the [Skill]. The aches and pains from the day before slowly faded to nothing as I lost myself ever deeper in the frenzy and fury of [Bloodlust]. Near the end of the day, Wisterl, caught up in the heat of the fight, had struck out in just the wrong way and had knocked me fully unconscious for a couple of minutes. When I woke, [Bloodlust] had faded, and I was forced to reactivate it as I slept. 

Fortunately, when I woke, I could feel the influence of my [Skill] still thundering in my ears, and so I had immediately begun the fight with Wisterl. Her strikes continued to rain down on me, but my continuously growing skill allowed me to transform the potentially crippling blows into glancing, ignorable attacks. I still couldn't actually fight her, but I was beginning to understand how to, at least, survive Wisterl's inexhaustible desire to beat and abuse me into submission.

I let a fierce grin cut across my face as I threw myself into the whirling tempest that was Wisterl. I wouldn't allow just this much to defeat me.