Chapter 5: Lightning Rods and Soda Pops
816 Words
Zyro woke up the next morning, his muscles aching in places he didn't even know he had muscles. He groaned, rolling over to check his phone. 6:00 AM. On a Saturday. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke.
"Rise and shine, Sparkplug!" Bron's booming voice came through the window, accompanied by a pebble pinging off the glass. "Time to start your training!"
Zyro stumbled to the window, squinting at the burly figure on his front lawn. "Bron? How did you even find out where I live?"
The older demigod grinned. "Let's just say I've got my ways. Now hurry up, we've got a lot of ground to cover. And bring a change of clothes. Trust me, you're gonna need it."
Twenty minutes and one hastily scribbled note to his parents later ("Gone fishing with a friend, back later!"), Zyro found himself in Bron's beat-up pickup truck, speeding towards the outskirts of town.
"So, uh, what exactly is on the training agenda today?" Zyro asked, stifling a yawn.
Bron's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Oh, you know. The usual. Channeling lightning, riding the winds, maybe juggling a few thunderbolts if we're feeling spicy."
Zyro blinked. "You're joking, right?"
"Kid, let me tell you something about being a descendant of Zeus," Bron said, his tone suddenly serious. "Our lives are cosmic jokes. Might as well learn to laugh along."
They pulled up to an abandoned junkyard, rusted cars and old appliances scattered as far as the eye could see. Bron hopped out of the truck, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to your training ground!"
Zyro looked around skeptically. "A junkyard? What am I supposed to learn here? The art of tetanus?"
Bron chuckled, walking over to an old refrigerator. With a grunt, he lifted it over his head. "Lesson one: Everything's a conductor if you're brave enough." He tossed the fridge at Zyro.
Instinctively, Zyro raised his hands, a surge of panic and power coursing through him. A bolt of lightning shot from his palms, striking the airborne appliance. It exploded in a shower of sparks and twisted metal.
"Holy Zeus!" Zyro exclaimed, ducking to avoid the debris.
"Not bad, Sparkplug," Bron nodded approvingly. "But can you do it again? Without screaming like a startled chipmunk this time?"
For the next few hours, Bron hurled various objects at Zyro, encouraging him to channel his powers in different ways. By noon, the junkyard looked like it had been hit by a very localized, very electric hurricane.
"Alright, kid. Break time," Bron announced, tossing Zyro a can of soda. "Drink up. You need to stay hydrated when you're throwing around that much juice."
Zyro caught the can, but as soon as his fingers touched the metal, a spark jumped from his hand. The can exploded, dousing him in sticky, caffeinated rain.
Bron burst out laughing. "Oh man, I can't believe you fell for that! Classic newbie mistake. Here, try this instead." He handed Zyro a bottle of water, still chuckling.
As Zyro glumly tried to wipe soda off his face, a thought occurred to him. "Hey Bron, how come you never seem to lose control of your powers?"
The older demigod's laughter subsided, replaced by a wistful smile. "Years of practice, kid. And more than a few embarrassing moments. Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally called down lightning during my high school graduation? Turned the principal's toupee into a crispy critter. Ah, good times."
Zyro couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. As he did, he felt some of the tension and fear of the past few days melt away. Maybe Bron was right. If his life was going to be a cosmic joke, he might as well enjoy the punchline.
Their break was interrupted by a low, menacing growl. Zyro spun around to see a massive, three-headed dog emerge from behind a pile of crushed cars.
"Uh, Bron?" Zyro's voice cracked. "Please tell me that's just a very unfortunate mutant and not what I think it is."
Bron's expression turned grim. "Sorry, kid. Looks like Hades decided to send us a little welcome wagon. Say hello to Cerberus."
The monstrous dog snarled, all three heads focusing on Zyro with hungry intent.
"Any advice?" Zyro asked, electricity crackling around his clenched fists.
Bron shrugged, dropping into a fighting stance. "Yeah. Try not to get eaten. Oh, and if you happen to have any three-headed dog treats in your pocket, now would be a great time to use them."
As Cerberus charged, Zyro couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he should have stayed in bed this morning. But as the familiar surge of power rushed through him, a wild grin spread across his face. After all, what was life as a demigod without a little canine chaos?
"Here, boy!" he called out, electricity arcing between his fingertips. "Who wants a nice, juicy lightning bolt?"
- Writer
