Adventure Time: Ashford Demon's Bane

Chapter 3: Oh Brother you stink

Finn stood in the clearing, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion as he swung the heavy, weathered sword in wide, clumsy arcs. His movements were wild, lacking precision, each swing followed by the distinct metallic clang as the blade awkwardly connected with nothing but air. Nearby, Nico lounged against the twisted trunk of an old oak tree, a piece of straw casually hanging from his lips. The golden rays of the setting sun filtered through the canopy, casting long shadows that danced across the ground like specters.

A cool breeze swept through the forest, making the leaves rustle softly, a whisper of things unsaid.

Nico: smirking “Alright, Finn. You can stop now.”

Finn, panting, wiped the sweat from his brow and ran up to Nico, his eyes wide with anticipation. His heart raced with the hope that he had done well.

Finn: grinning “How did I do, Nic? Tell me, how did I do?”

Nico’s grin widened, his sharp, amethyst eyes gleaming like polished gems beneath the fading light. With a sigh, he leaned forward, arms crossed, the straw bouncing between his teeth.

Nico: “Well, Finn... you stink.”

The words cut through the air like a blade, and Finn’s expression faltered. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of Nico’s critique had suddenly doubled the gravity around him. The sky seemed to darken slightly, as though the very clouds shared in his disappointment, gathering in heavy, sullen masses above.

Finn: mumbling “Huh…?”

His gaze fell to the dirt, his confidence crumbling beneath the weight of Nico’s bluntness.

For a long moment, only the sound of rustling leaves and Finn’s shallow breaths filled the space between them. The wind picked up, colder now, a biting reminder of his shortcomings.

But Nico, ever the enigma, stood straighter and gave a half-hearted chuckle, his eyes softening slightly. He tapped the hilt of the black sword hanging loosely at his side.

Nico: smirking “Don’t worry. It takes time. I’ll teach ya, kid.”

With a fluid motion, Nico drew the Void Cleaver from its sheath. The blade seemed to drink in the light, its obsidian surface rippling as though it were forged from shadow itself. As it caught the last rays of the dying sun, the sword glistened like a night sky trapped within steel—vast, unknowable, and hungry.

Nico took a stance, the ground beneath his feet almost trembling with the power coursing through him. He gripped the hilt with both hands, the muscles in his arms flexing effortlessly as he swung the blade in a slow, deliberate arc. The air itself seemed to part for the weapon, as though it dared not stand in its path.

Nico: voice low “Watch closely, Finn.”

The earth groaned as the Void Cleaver carved through the ground, leaving a faint, shimmering trail in its wake. Nico’s movements were as fluid as water, precise and sharp like a lightning strike, yet calm—controlled, as if he and the sword were one entity, bound by some ancient understanding.

Nico: without looking up “You see, the sword isn’t just a weapon. It’s an extension of yourself. You don’t swing it. You become it.”

His words lingered in the air like an incantation, sinking into Finn’s mind. The wind howled once more, as if in awe of Nico’s mastery, before dying down to a mere whisper.

Finn watched, spellbound, his earlier despair replaced by awe. His heart still thudded in his chest, but now, it was with renewed determination. He clenched his hands around his own sword, feeling the cool metal press into his palms.

Finn: whispering to himself “An extension of myself…”

Nico straightened, sliding the Void Cleaver back into its sheath with a sharp, metallic hiss. He turned to Finn, that mischievous grin playing on his lips again.

Nico: grinning “Now, your turn. Let’s see if you can stink a little less.”

Just as Finn tightened his grip, preparing to swing his sword again, a soft humming filled the air. Jake stretched lazily out of the treehouse window, his long limbs twisting and curving like elastic vines as he made his way down, carefree as ever.

Jake: grinning "What’s up, guys? What’d I miss? Besides Finn’s stinking swordsmanship?"

Finn, already tense from his training, whirled around, his face flushed with irritation.

Finn: offended "Hey!!"

Nico, leaning against the tree with that same cocky grin, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. He tilted his head toward Jake, arms crossed over his chest.

Nico: dryly "Not much."

Finn: frustrated "Double hey! Not cool, dudes. Not cool."

The dog and the tribrid exchanged a quick glance, a mischievous glint in their eyes. Then, as if on cue, they both burst into laughter. Their laughter echoed through the clearing, loud and unbothered, like a pair of hyenas that had found an inside joke.

Finn stood there, fuming, his sword hanging loosely at his side. The forest around them seemed to join in the mockery, with the wind rustling the leaves in a way that sounded suspiciously like it was snickering too.

Before Finn could snap back, the soft clunk, clunk of tiny footsteps drew everyone’s attention. From the treehouse, a small, boxy figure waddled out, his brightly lit screen showing a cheerful face.

BMO: in a chipper tone "What is so funny? Is Finn being teased again?"

The words "BMO" were painted on his side, and the little robot stopped to look up at the trio, curious as always. His round buttons clicked as he tried to process the joke.

Jake: chuckling "Oh, BMO, you should’ve seen Finn! You woulda been able to program better swordsmanship into him!"

Finn: groaning "Guys, come on!"

Nico smirked but didn’t pile on this time, instead tossing Finn a knowing look, almost like he was waiting to see how the kid would handle it. The sun was sinking lower now, casting long shadows over the group, but the warmth of their camaraderie filled the clearing, an easy balance between ribbing and friendship.

BMO, ever the optimist, waddled over to Finn and gave a supportive beep.

BMO: cheerfully "Don’t worry, Finn. BMO believes in you!"

Finn couldn’t help but crack a small smile, despite himself.

Finn: sighing "Thanks, BMO. At least someone does."

Jake and Nico, still grinning like the troublemakers they were, exchanged one last playful glance before calming down. Jake stretched his limbs even further, now lounging lazily across two trees like a hammock.

Jake: grinning "Okay, okay, I’ll stop. You’re doing alright, Finn. Just… maybe a little less swinging like a chicken next time?"

Finn rolled his eyes but grinned back, the tension easing from his shoulders as the teasing gave way to encouragement.

Finn: grinning "I’ll show you chicken. Just wait."

As the sun dipped lower, casting the clearing in a warm, golden glow, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm. Despite the jokes, Finn felt a little less alone in his struggle, surrounded by his odd but loyal family.