His Return

24. Abel and Cain

His Return
Chapter 24: Abel and Cain

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Somewhere Near the Italian Border
Mediterranean Sea

'Look Deep Within Yourself And Tell Me Who You Are.

Tell Me What You See.

Tell Me If You Recognize Yourself.'

***

Chrysaor was never the type of person that one could predict.

The pirate had lived and fought for centuries, so it was needless to say that his skills were quite possibly more developed and polished than those of his brother.

Percy, however, didn't care— not even in the slightest.

The young General believed that he would triumph, his pride getting the best of him once again. It was this bold, and cocky attitude that'd put him in so much trouble along the years. So many times he could've avoided conflict had it not been for his burning self-conceit and vanity. As a fighter, this wasn't the greatest thing to acquire—at least not entirely.

It puts you in trouble, time and time again, because you believe that you're the greatest, when there are others that've been around much longer than you.

See, this was Percy's primary problem. His ego ruled his life and the manner in which he carried out certain tasks.

Both men shouted taunts at each other, and it wasn't long before the two began circling like lions fighting for territory, probing for openings, but neither seeming to succeed in their quests. Their guards were completely up.

"You were always a pampered brat, Jackson." Chrysaor directed his words to his brother, but that didn't appear to phase the man in any way. Percy bared his white teeth, the sharp hound-like cuspids revealing themselves completely. They were like fangs eager for the taste of fresh blood; which for a human being, was quite the disturbing sight.

"Is that right?" Percy laughed through his words. "I lead you to believe whatever you must. Think what you will, but 'pampered' is one thing that my life has never been."

He was fast and fluid with motions when he jabbed at Chrysaor's masked face, simply testing the waters rather than actually striking to damage.

To Percy's surprise, Chrysaor was late in bringing his weapon up to parry. Had it been a genuine attempt, this fight could have been over.

"You make mindless mistakes, brother." Percy advised him. "A second will cost you your life."

The pirate gave a low growl, his pride obviously harmed by Percy's statement. He lifted his sword and threw himself at Perseus, but unlike his brother, Chrysaor didn't feign a strike. He struck to kill.

His sword had only grazed Percy's left ear when he stabbed at his face. Percy moved sharply to the right, avoiding being impaled by the imperial blade.

Percy narrowed his eyes, albeit shocked at the deliberate attempt. "I warned you."

He dispersed into the wind leaving not a trace of his being. When he materialized, he was standing behind Chrysaor with a sinister grin on his face, those red eyes shining vividly at the notion of inflicting pain onto another.

Before Chrysaor could whirl around, Percy had already  placed a spartan kick to the pirate's behind, forcing him forward before sinking his knives through the rough skin of his brother's back.