Ch 28. Armored Destroyer Hydra Doom

John awoke with a mild hangover the next day and carefully extracted himself from his hammock as he wiped the cool water of his alarm off his forehead. He then checked the couch to find that Andressa was gone. She’d neatly folded the blanket he’d given her and draped it over the back of his couch. On top of it was a note.

Check your shirt

He frowned and looked down and saw nothing, then reached onto his back where he found a second note gently clipped to his shirt.

See you tomorrow

He sighed. She knew the idea of her slipping into his room while he was sleeping would make him uncomfortable. He placed that note along with the other on the counter and then went through his normal morning routine.

When he arrived at Hilda’s Bakery, Mia insisted he skip the line. That day she was wearing a black dress covered with silver chains and her hair was in purple pigtails.

“Are you okay? I heard about what happened with the mimics.”

“I’m okay. Just had a few bruises that a healer took care of before I even got off the sidewalk. I’m just glad they picked me. I think this place would’ve made for a much more dangerous one. Wouldn't be surprised if the oven would’ve let it breathe fire.”

“Well, fine or not it’s on the house today. Mom insisted.” She pushed the bag onto John’s chest and he smiled as he took it, giving her a warm nod and smile as he left and tried to avoid the angry glances of the customers she’d skipped over to talk to him.

He hesitated for a moment in front of his front door and did a quick walk to either side of it to make sure there wasn’t an identical one next to it. Once he was certain it wasn’t a mimic he walked inside.

He eyed a few pieces of furniture warily as he walked toward Andressa’s desk. She was quickly scribbling down a note that she handed to a nearby pixie that took it and flew out through the window in his office.

“Everything okay?” he asked as he placed down her bag of pastries.

“It’s fine. Just sending a note to my parents about something. I’m planning to visit them a few months down the line.” She opened the bag in front of her and pulled out a chocolate chip muffin, biting into it bottom first. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know, it’s amazing that a man who sleeps in a hammock can be so thoughtful.”

He sighed as he went into his office to get his coffee started and open his breakfast. “Who are we expecting to see today?

“Mostly regulars. First is Blaise, then Kennit, Pidge. After that it's two new clients. One is a kid and his guardian. He’s got some issues with responsibilities. After that is another new client, Hargreeve Bloodreaper.”

“Hargreeve? The gladiator?”

“Yes,” she responded.

“Huh, that’s a surprise.” John didn’t follow arena matches, but even he knew about Hargreeve. He was like the Michael Jordan of public murder sports. “Did he say what it was he needed?”

“No, but I asked a friend that likes the fights and she told me that his performance has been dismal lately.”

“Hmmm, thanks Andressa.”

She nodded as she finished eating the bottom of her chocolate chip muffin and threw the top into the trash.

He frowned at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

…

After wrapping up with one of his regulars John took a few minutes to stretch when he heard his next patient arrive. He heard the knock on his door and opened the door to see Andressa. Behind her was a man dressed as the stereotypical wizard. He had blue robes covered in images of moons and stars, a tall pointed blue hat that was a bit floppy at the tip, and a long white beard. Jumping up and down on the couch behind him was a child that seemed to be about five years old. He had sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes and was making some kind of odd yelping noise on every fifth jump.

“Your next patients are here,” said Andressa with an amused smile.

“Thank you, Andressa.” He said, holding out a hand to the old wizard. “Nice to meet you.”

The wizard took his hand and shook it firmly. “I am Balthazar Cronditz.”

“John,” he replied, turning his attention to the boy. “And who might you be?” he asked with a smile.

“I’m Artorian. I’m five years old. I have a dog and three cats and seven mice, but it might be less because of the cats. I had pancakes for breakfast today. Did you know that some minotaurs don’t have horns? I know that because when we were walking here I saw one that didn’t have any. I like your jacket. The lady with horns is pretty; are you married to her? I ate a wasp once. Do you have any swords I can look at? I-”

“Artorian, how about you move to my office? I've got a couch in there that’s even more bouncy than this one,” said John with a smile.

The boy nodded and pushed past him to run into the office. John gestured for the wizard to enter too and couldn’t help but notice that he eyed the exit door for a moment as if considering fleeing before he followed his young ward into the office.

John went inside and saw Artorian jumping up and down on the couch still rambling. He exchanged a few more snippets of conversation with the boy before writing a few notes down. Then he turned his attention to Balthazar.

“So, normally I’d ask you what the issue is, but I already have a guess or two.”

“This boy is killing me,” replied the sorcerer. “I have been given the task of schooling him and preparing him for rule, but I have found it impossible. The boy will not stay still, I must repeat my every request to him several times at high volume before I get a response. I am at my wit's end. I would’ve left long ago, but he is a part of a great prophecy which we are even now travelling to fulfill.”

“Are there any activities he will focus on?”

“Yes. We encountered a card game on the way to fulfill the first part of his birthright, and he insisted on playing it with everyone else that did so on the way. He will also help any stranger with any task they request. From finding a lost dog, to retrieving a certain number of flowers from a field. He will insist on taking a roundabout way to any place he’s going as he’s afraid he’ll ‘miss something’ otherwise. It’s maddening.”

John looked at Artorian and smiled. “Can you show me your card game?”

The boy’s eyes widened and he pulled a deck of well worn cards from his pocket. He went over each card. They each had a figure of a hero or a monster on them, and a little marking and number that designated their rules. Artorian explained all of them in great and specific detail, and John listened intently as he went through it.

“Those are really cool. We had similar games in my world. Would you be able to show my secretary Andressa too? I’m sure she’ll think they’re great.”

The boy nodded enthusiastically and John let him out of the office.

“Andressa, I told Artorian you’d love to see his card game.”

“Of course I would,” she said looking at the boy with a smile. “Come over to my desk and show them to me.”

John nodded a quick thanks to her and returned to his office where he found that Balthazar had fallen asleep. He made a quick cup of tea for the man before gently shaking him awake.

“Huh, what?” he said, blinking his eyes as he looked around.

John handed him the tea.

“Oh, thank you. I must have dozed off. The boy somehow wakes up exactly too early for me to have properly rested, no matter when I go to sleep.”

“I’m assuming you’ve already checked the boy for curses and charms?”

“Yes… I was very disheartened to not find any.”

“Well, back on Earth I’d have to do some testing on him to be sure, but I can tell you that I’m certain he has something called ADHD.”

“Is that some kind of spell?”

“No, it means Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Some kids have milder cases, while others like Artorian have more severe ones. It's pretty common in humans.”

“Is there a cure?”

“Nope, but there are some things you can do to help. You can make sure he gets a lot of good exercise, you can turn how you teach him into a game, you can establish good routines, and you can minimize his distractions when he needs to focus. There is one main thing I think you need though?”

“Oh?”

“Help. Find someone else to help wear that kid out. You’re too old to do it yourself. It’s clearly exhausting you.”

“I’m only forty-seven.”

John raised his eyebrows looking at the man’s heavy wrinkles and thick white beard. “Well then you really need more help.”

…

John was still recovering from a heavy lunch when he heard the main office door open. He stood up and gave himself a light smack on each of his cheeks in order to perk himself up a bit. He then walked to his office door to open it.

There was no doubt in his mind that the man in front of him was a gladiator. His head would’ve hit the ceiling if he wasn’t leaned over Andressa’s desk, and he was easily two Johns and an Andressa wide. His skin was dark green and covered with colorful tattoos that John knew from conversations with other orcs represented great victories. He was wearing a simple tunic and trousers, but even dressed casually it was impossible to mistake him for anything other than a fighter.

“-look good arenaside. I can probably find a way to get you some free tickets.”

Andressa’s tail twitched a bit in annoyance. “I don’t know if I’d be able to get away from work for something like that. My boss rides me pretty hard.”

“Oh ho ho!” said Hargreeve smiling as he looked over to John. “I was worried you would be some kind of loser, but if you can hold down a piece like this then that’s another story.”

“Don’t take what she says too seriously,” said John as he took a step closer.

“That’s not a nice thing to say considering I woke up in your apartment this morning,” replied Andressa, putting a bit of exaggerated innocence into her voice as she spoke.

Hargreeve’s eyebrows went up as he guffawed a bit more.

“Mr. Hargreeve, if you’ll step into my office.”

“Long as I can fit through the door,” he said with a smile.

John walked back into his office with the Gladiator in tow. He did fit through the door, though it was a close thing. He sat on the couch, but declined tea, opting instead for water.

“So Mister Hargreeve, what is it that brought you here today?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“I’ve heard a few things, but it’s important to hear it from you.”

“I keep losing fights. This season I’ve gone one-three so far, and that one victory was only because the idiot tripped and fell on his own spear. I feel… sluggish? No that’s not quite right. It’s like I can’t move the way I used to. Swords, shields, maces, spears, they all used to just feel like an extension of myself, but lately they seem foreign in my hands whenever I step into the arena.”

“Have you already visited a healer? And had yourself checked for curses?”

“Yeah, first thing I did after my first loss. They said there was nothing wrong with me. No curse either, though people have tried before to win bets.”

“Do you have the same issues when training?”

“A bit, especially when a fight’s coming soon. Usually it’s not as bad though.”

“And you’ve tried switching up your weapons and techniques and things like that?”

“Yeah.”

John nodded. “Back on Earth this isn’t an uncommon thing to happen to athletes. A sudden loss in the ability to perform the simple parts of their sport. There are some fancy names for it, but most people just call it the yips.”

“The Yips? Sounds like a goblin gladiator.”

John chuckled. “It does. The point is you’re not alone in dealing with this. I wouldn��t even be surprised if other gladiators here in Avalon have had to deal with it before.”

“Can it be fixed?”

“Yes, but before we fix it we’ll need to figure out exactly what it is that’s causing it. That may take a few sessions though, so in the short term we’re going to have to work on some relaxation and visualization techniques. Can you take potions regularly?”

“As long as it’s not a strength or stamina enhancer, yeah. Though I could take those if I wanted to fight in some limitless matches.”

John nodded, the limitless matches were famous for allowing any potions or enchantments into the fight, he’d felt the city shake more than once while one was going on. He took a moment to write a few things on a note and handed it to Hargreeve.

“Okay, aside from the techniques we work on today, I’ll also want you to take this order to an alchemist. It’ll help with anxiety.”

“Can’t I just drink that and not do any of the other stuff? Seems like a lot of time that I could spend training instead.”

“You can do that, and it may even work for a while. It won’t solve the problem though.” John leaned back in his chair and gripped the handle of his teacup carefully. “I didn’t think a champion gladiator would be opposed to a bit of hard work.”

Hargreeve frowned. “Alright alright… what are these relaxation techniques?”