*Note that sometimes I change the story's point of view this time it's Helios point of view*
The sun hung high and heavy in the sky, beating down on the clearing like a relentless hammer. Sweat dripped down my back, stinging my eyes, but I welcomed the heat. It sharpened focus, made every movement count.
"Think you can take me in a spar?" Aaron asked suddenly, wiping sweat from his brow as the sun scorched down on us.
I cracked my knuckles, a slow grin spreading across my face. "You're on."
Aaron bounced on his toes, fists loose but ready. His skin glistened with sweat, hair clinging to his forehead.
"Don't hold back today," he said with a grin. "You never hit me full force."
Because if I did, he'd break.
I didn't say that. Instead, I cracked my neck and stepped forward. The dry earth beneath my feet was hot and cracked, but my stance was steady and grounded. My strikes were heavy and deliberate, each punch carrying the weight of my bulk.
He feinted left, then snapped a quick jab toward my ribs. I tightened my core and let my forearm meet his fist. The sharp thwack echoed through my arm, sending a brief vibration up my bones. He pulled back before I could counter, smiling like this was a game.
I shifted my weight, grounding myself deeper. My first punch was slow but heavy—a right hook aimed at his side. Aaron twisted just in time, the rush of air brushing his skin.
He grinned and came at me with a flurry: two rapid jabs to my chest, followed by a sweeping left aimed to catch me off-guard. I stepped back, narrowly avoiding the strike, feeling the rush of air as his fist sliced past.
"Not bad," I said, stepping forward and launching a straight punch to his shoulder.
He blocked with his forearm, but I caught his wrist, twisting gently to test his grip and balance. He stumbled but recovered quickly, spinning a back fist that grazed my cheek—warm and stinging.
We danced like this, strike and parry, movement and counter-move, under the burning sun. My muscles ached with each swing, sweat dripping into my eyes, blurring the sharp outlines of his quick steps.
Aaron's breath came faster. His eyes gleamed with stubborn fire, refusing to yield.
I saw my opening when he overextended on a right hook. Dropping my weight, I drove a left fist into his ribs hard enough to make him gasp and step back, clutching his side. The sharp sound cut through the quiet air.
But Aaron didn't fall. He squared his shoulders and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Not bad," he breathed. "You're getting serious now."
I nodded, wiping sweat from my face. "Gotta keep you on your toes."
He smiled, face flushed and fierce. "Teach me how to be solid like a mountain."
"Born heavy helps."
We shared a laugh, but beneath it, I knew this was more than a game. Every hit, every dodge, was a lesson.
As we lowered our fists and began the walk back, the tall grass whispered in the breeze. The path was quiet, but the calm was fragile.
Suddenly, a sharp, guttural cackle split the air from the shadows of the trees lining the road.
"Goblins," I muttered, body tensing.
From the underbrush, small, wiry figures leapt out, eyes gleaming with malice. Four of them, brandishing crude blades and snarling.
Aaron's eyes locked on mine. No words were needed.
I moved first, stepping forward to shield him, fists clenched and ready. The largest goblin charged, wild blade swinging. I met it head-on, grabing his sword with my left hand and driving a heavy blow into its side.
Aaron weaved between two others, fists flying with practiced speed.
The clash was brutal and fast—grunts, snarls, and the sharp thwack of fists on flesh filled the air. I caught a blade on my forearm—the scrape biting but shallow—and responded with a crushing uppercut that sent a goblin sprawling to the dirt.
Aaron spun, landing a solid punch to another's jaw. The impact echoed in the still heat.
Within moments, the goblins faltered. One tried to flee, but I threw a punch that caught it mid-run, sending it tumbling with a grunt.
We stood panting, surrounded by the groans of defeated foes. My heart hammered—not from exertion, but from the sharp reminder that danger never really left us.
Aaron wiped blood from a split lip and smiled. "Guess the day isn't over yet."
I nodded, eyes flicking to the treeline where shadows shifted. "No rest for the prepared."
Suddenly, Aaron screamed, "They weren't alone!" just as an arrow hissed through the air towards him