It was a pleasant morning. Xurdon and Atilus had camped out in a valley near a creek. Naturally, when Xurd woke up, Atilus had already left, doing whatever it is that wizards do. Xurd was not all too surprised. He kicked the bear they had wrestled a few days prior in the ribs. As a wakeup call. She didn’t really appreciate it.

“Wake up.” Xurd spat.

Gral roared, contorting, trying to bite the minotaur.

“Gral eat!”

“Yeah, yeah…you stupid, fucking, animal…”

Gral didn’t really understand what Xurd said, but she just knew that it was supposed to make her angry. She had known for two days now. The first day he had kicked her in the stomach. The second day, he had kicked her in the mouth. There was a creeping suspicion crawling somewhere in Gral’s cranium that he was starting to warm up to her.

“Stop squirming. It doesn’t suit you.”

Xurd kicked her once more in the ribs. For him the past two day had been a nightmare. Dragging the beast from her cave in the mountains down the hills to the valley was an endeavor all in itself. But he had to listen to her threaten and roar and vocally salivate. It would have been much easier on him if at the very least she knew how to speak.

Today, Xurd had woken up in a particularly bad mood. More so than usual. Atilus had given him a stern talking to the last night, because of his inexplicable willingness to kick talking bears in the mouth.

“She’s an endangered species!” He had said. “A mythical being. There are no others like her on the planet!”

To which Xurd had calmly replied.

“Tell her to mind her tongue and maybe there won’t be a sudden extinction.”

The minotaur took off his clothes and jumped in the creek for his morning bath. Something he halfway regretted the moment the cold water splashed on his genitalia, but he hadn’t taken a bath the day before, so, in his mind, he had no other choice. 

He scrubbed himself in a haste, arms spread as wide as to not touch anything colder than the air around him. He jumped and squirmed and let out embarrassing noises, but at the very least he was clean. Or as clean as he could be all things considering.

As he was violently splashing water on his naked form, to his complete and utter dismay, he managed to glimpse from the corner of his eye his prisoner squirming on the ground a little more fiercely than usual. With a click of his tongue and a wag of his tail he quickly jumped out of the freezing water onto the windy hillside and, ultimately, regretted that decision as the cool, gentle breeze caressed his scrotum.

“Whatcha doing there, bear?” Xurd managed to say in between the clattering of his teeth.

“Gral not do thing.”

Xurd narrowed his eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

“Positively.”

Xurd exhaled audibly through his nose, scanning up the bear who had seemed to settle down.

“You know…” he began as he stepped forward. “…I find it kind of strange how you just…so happen to…”he waved his hands, as if trying to find the right words. “…understand and speak like a normal person and not some brain dead animal.”

“Gral no hear. Maybe bull come closer and ask Gral in face.”

Xurd sighed. It was going to be one of those days, when for some reason, some people just wanted to get their skulls crushed. Still, Xurd believed himself to be a reasonable man. He inhaled deeply, exhaled and spoke.

“I’m going to try and be nice here. So, I’ll give you till the count of three to take that back. You can count, can’t you?”

“Gral count one bitch –bull. Bitch bull not good when no fox.”

“Yeah…we’re doing this.”

Xurd stepped forward. He wasn’t really planning on doing too much damage. Just enough for the bear to know who’s boss. Maybe he’ll get a stern talking to by Atilus, but that’s something he can live with.

He had already planned on his procedure – kick her in the ribs, naturally. Just so she gets the feeling it was going to be the usual shtick. Then kick her in the mouth, to remind her that he means business. Probably kick her in the stomach. Yes. Definitely kick her in the stomach.

The thing with plans is that all too often one plan is never enough. A plan needs to be adaptable so it can be able to account for any changes and variations of the circumstances. Chaos is and has always been a powerful force in the world, affecting beings great and small, from empires to ants. Both on a physical and metaphysical level, this force has played one of the major roles in existence.

Of course, chaos can be easily defeated, at least on a physical level. Chaos, on a fundamental level of understanding, is disorder. And disorder, in its own way, is a type of ignorance. All one needs to do to defeat chaos, and therefore become a master of their own fate, is to exhibit some common sense from time to time.

Common sense like not walking completely naked up to an angry bear. Common sense like not standing right in front of said bear. Common sense like not getting kicked square in the balls by aforementioned angry bear.

Atilus, like many wizards, considered himself free from fate’s chains, both physical and metaphysical. Xurd, lying on the ground, hands cupping his busted balls, unable to utter anything more than a few squeals and tears forming in his eyes was pretty much a slave to fate and its chaotic whims.

While Xurd was groveling and cursing on the ground, Gral had managed to turn a few times on the ground and land next to sharp rock and she began to vigorously rub the rope tied around her front paws on its edges.

“Oh…it’s on now…”Xurd growled as he barely managed to get up.

He lunged forward, Gral too preoccupied to managed to do anything about it, and with a swift strike he dug his fist right in her stomach. The bear stiffened up as her fat, fur and muscle engulfed the minotaur’s fist. In an instant, she lungs emptied out with a power growl. For all intents and purposes, Xurd had won.

But Xurd didn’t feel like he had won. A long time ago, but not enough time in Xurd’s opinion, the minotaur belonged to a tribe. And like most tribes of minotaurs, they had a certain view on what it meant to be a victor. Depending on the cast of warriors, these views differed. In Xurd’s case, it meant the complete and utter defeat of the ones you fight, so much so that they would gravel in your feet.

Now, Xurd had run away before the utterly tortures parts of his training had begun. He considered himself as far removed from a berserker as non-watered down alcohol from a cheap inn. But in rare times, some of his old habits managed to sneak up on him and have a say in his methodology. To Gral’s remorse, this was one of those times.

To the bear, now left airless, grasping for what little oxygen she could, the punch felt like it lasted for an entire year. To everyone else, it lasted for about three seconds. Then came the second punch. And the third. Forth, fifth, sixth and so on.

When he was done, some might have found it as overkill. Xurd found it as going soft and being merciful. Gral found it as breaching over through the Hellgates.

With each punch, she lost every bit of air she didn’t know she had left, her gut collapsing more and more, the punches tenderizing her abdomen more and more. Her eyes crossing more and more with each hit, by the end almost completely turning around. Her mouth never closing and always emitting a furious jet of air, which slowly simmered down as less and less was left of her to spew out. With the final punch, Gral was left barely alive, her tongue flopping around with a string of saliva slowly dripping down.

Xurd was almost content. He had one last trick up his sleeve, vividly remembering the last time he had to pummel the bear so hard. He retracted his fist and Gral fell down, the inertia of the fall ripping the rope which still clung to the rock. She slowly raised herself on her two tied up hind legs, trying to stay balanced in her dizzy state. The bear raised her paw with the same speed a snail would run from its prey, with the intent of swiping the minotaur.

Xurd on the other hand didn’t feel the pressure to hurry. He smiled, cracked his knuckles and ducked delivering an uppercut.

One of the things that Xurd prided himself on was his uppercut, developed from years of practical use. It was a devastating attack which would leave most of his foes out of commission. This was no exception. But this time around his mark wasn’t the jaw nor the freshly minced gut of the bear.

Gral completely froze, unable to utter a single sound as the minotaur’s fist connected to her nether region. An underhanded tactic in most cases, but Xurd figured it was a good lesson for the bear. His fist pushed against the thick fur, hitting her meaty vulva, the shock of the hit sending an unending barrage of signals to the bear’s brain – painful, but at the same time with a slight nuance of pleasure among them.

As Xurd pushed deeper, her body interpret the act as an optimal time for coitus and, most likely to her dismay, considering her mind had gone blank by this point, she began to get wet. The lubrication eased the efforts of the minotaur, his fist slowly managing to plunge insider of her, slowly being completely enveloped by the bear. When he reached the limits of her depths, undeterred Xurd pushed even further, slowly rising up from his crouching position, lifting the bear upwards. Like a lone warrior on the battlefield lifting his swords towards the heavens in an act of superiority, Xurd lifted the bear, her buttocks proudly raised towards the sun.

She was, for lack of a better term, momentarily paralyzed by the experience, her thoughtflow totally distorted and her basic instincts non-responsive. If one would ignore the circumstances, it could be said that she had broken away from Samsara.

When he felt that she had had enough, or more likely when his arm got tired, he threw the bear to the ground, her lifeless body slamming onto the dewed grass, twitching involuntarily.

“You know...” Xurd said turning around, wiping his hand on his leg. “…if I didn’t know any better, I would say you enjoyed that.”

Gral didn’t reply, nor could she.

“It was good for me too. Well…probably not for the same reasons.” Xurd let out a low, malicious chuckle.

Xurd looked up at the cloudless sky, the sun brightly beaming down on the valley. The cool breeze blew through the minotaur’s mane and he felt at peace. Today was going to be a good day.

As he stood there, contemplating the emotional stress relief he had just experienced, he heard a rustling behind him. Turning around, at nick of time, he managed to duck and Gral’s paw swiped just above his head. Without wasting a second, he threw one final punch in the bear’s gut, the force completely setting her off balance, pushing her once more upright. Just to make sure that his point was not missed, Xurd pushed his thumb into the bear, finding her bellybutton and penetrating it as hard as he could.

By this point, Gral was utterly defeated, her humiliation meant to serve as a lesson. Sadly for her, there was a high chance that she would not completely remember these event’s thoroughly. She had once again gone limp from the force of the impact, even more so with the added thumbstrike. Left breathless, semi-conscious and a face resembling one of those grotesques erotic drawings from the Orient which Xurd had stumbled onto in a dime novel in the marketplace once, Gral slumped back to the ground by the gracious whims of the minotaur.

The minotaur eyed over his defeated foe, humiliated and disgraced. He kneeled down next to the bear and firmly gave her a few slaps on the muzzle. There was barely visible sign of response.

“You know…for dumb animal, it was a bit impressive that you figured out that you could cut yourself loose like that.” He stood back up. “Maybe Atilus really did have something in mind with you.”

Xurd began jumping from one leg to the other.

“Still…that just might mean that there is a chance you could have understood what happened now. Which is good for me. If you truly are smart, you now know what you did wrong and I wouldn’t feel sorry for beating up a dumb animal.”

Gral didn’t move. She simply laid there salivating, trying to get in terms with her current predicament.

“Buuut…” Xurd began as he started measuring distances. “Just in case if you are a slow learner…”

The minotaur closed his eyes and concentrated. It had been a long time since he had done something like this. He took a few steps back and rushed forward, kicking the bear right in her gut.

Majjixk was an interesting thing. Put simply – the ever present force with which the conscious and subconscious affected reality. Everybody was capable of majjixk, whether they realized it or not, but of the time whatever effect it might have, they wouldn’t really call it magical. More like fate or dumb luck. There were certain nuances, some wizards would label coincidental and vulgar majjixk. In this case, this was an obvious example of vulgar majjixk.

It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say the bear just went off flying as the kick knocked her with such force that she easily covered around a distance of 40 ells in less than 5 seconds. She might have gone further if Xurd had decided for her to crash into a rock.

The impact wouldn’t kill her, the minotaur made sure of that. But it did send a message.

“Don’t fuck with me.” He murmured as he turned around, dusting his hands.

But, alas, his joy was short lived as he heard an angry yell in the distance.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Atilus screamed.

Xurd sighed. The silence was good while it lasted.