Mystery Savior Ch. 8
#5 of Mystery Savior
This chapter is written from Rendall's point of view. I tried to write it from Beowulf's, but I couldn't get a point across that you will see in this chapter.
"Hey! What's wrong? They didn't hurt you, did they?" I asked, confused. "I didn't see them punch you."
"No, it's not that," Beowulf whimpered softly. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "They were the ones who tried to beat me up, not you."
"But they wouldn't have gone after you if you didn't have to stop them from attacking me. I hate causing people pain! I hate even seeing people in pain. And to see what had happened to Loki's nose, and know that it was me who had caused it is pure torture! I know I didn't mean to hurt Loki when I jumped over him, but if I hadn't goaded him into attacking me, then nothing would have happened."
"Not true," I replied. "If you hadn't been there, I would have been beaten up much worse. I would probably be worse off then they left you."
After the tears seemed to have slowed down a bit, he replied, "You wouldn't have been beaten up if I hadn't needed protection that day."
I sensed inside me a growing emotion of utter hatred towards Loki and his gang. How dare he try to corrupt someone so innocent into stooping to his level! This is completely unthinkable. I could not stop imagining horrible things to do towards them to correct what they had done to him. I don't know why I felt so strongly about Beowulf's protection, but I felt that this deed should not go unpunished. I felt a growl building up in me, and I let a bit of it out.
"You're not mad at me, are you?" Beowulf asked, looking at me with puppy dog eyes that could melt Antarctica. "Did I do something wrong."
I looked down at him. I could feel myself growing soft at the look in his eyes. "You tried to protect me. There is no way that I could ever be mad at you for doing that. It's those illegitimate sons who I'm ticked off at. I swear, it's going to be hard not to deck them the next time I see them."
"NO!" howled Beowulf, practically tackling me in a desperate hug. "Please don't hurt them. I know that they're jerks, but there has been enough violence caused on my account. I refuse to have any more."
I was a bit taken aback by the desperateness in which he was defending people that had beaten him to a pulp. I have never seen anyone so against violence. This made my anger once again rise, but I made sure to not let the building up fury out. I didn't want to put this poor wolf any more that what he has already been through.
Instead, I just hugged him back. What else could I do? I promised that I wouldn't hurt them until he seemed in enough control of himself, which was about half an hour. It surprised me how soft his fur was. I started wondering what kind of shampoo he uses when he pulled away from me and spoke again, "We should probably head back," he said, wiping away the tears that were still on his face. "My mom will be home pretty soon."
I let go of him, wondering briefly why I felt so reluctant to do so. The thought was quickly dismissed from my mind when I realized that he never answered my question. "Hey, Beowulf? How were you able to hold your own in a fight against Loki? Most people who would fight him would have at least been punched by him. You were able to not only prevent yourself from being punched, but also hold your own in the fight. And you did all of it without even throwing a punch! How'd you do it?"
Beowulf looked at me and laughed, "You don't honestly think that I would come out of the closet without learning how to defend myself, did you?"
I had no idea what to say to this, so I just stayed silent, figuring that he would take it as a sign that I would like to hear more.
He got the sign. "When I entered high school, I realized that I was tired of living a lie. I knew I was gay, and I was tired of hiding it from the world. I was tired of questions from my mom about when I was going to bring a girlfriend home; tired of my friends from middle school trying to hook me up with girls that they thought I would like; but mostly I was tired of hearing people talking about how 'gay' things were and not be able to say anything. I knew that there had to be a change.
"Before I came out, though, I wanted to think through every problem that I might have to face. I knew that I would be ridiculed more often. I knew that I would be ostracized by most, if not all of my friends. This is stuff that I knew I could handle. Even when I was with my friends, I was rarely ever really 'there.' My mind was usually somewhere else, because they rarely talked about things that interested me.
"I knew that one problem that would take a lot more effort to overcome, however, was the bullying. I figured that I would be verbally, and possibly physically assaulted every day after word would spread. What I needed was to be able to protect myself, both mentally and physically, from what would come. The mental part was easy. All I needed to do was find a support group from the LGBT community."
"LGBT?" I asked.
"Lesbian, gay bisexual, and transgendered. Sorry. Whenever I tell this story, it's usually to someone who's also gay, so the terminology slips sometimes."
"S'ok."
"So I knew that I would be able to handle the verbal abuse that I would have to face, but the physical bullies would be somewhat of a problem. Even before I came out, I was still completely against violence. However, I needed to find a way to protect myself. I started searching for a type of legitimate self-defense class that wouldn't involve me bringing pain to anyone. What I came across was a form of martial arts called tai chi."
"Tai chi?" I asked. "Isn't that where the people who do it move really slow?"
"Essentially, yes. The main concept of it is to meet brute force with softness; basically using your opponents' energy against them. It's actually really fun. Of course, I like meditating, and tai chi has been called walking meditation before. The fact that it only involves fighting if you enter the tournaments made it even better."
I thought about what he said for a moment before I asked my next question. "If you had never fought before, and you absolutely hate fighting, then why were you so calm while you were fighting Loki. You almost looked bored. You even had enough cool to make Loki fight you alone!"
Beowulf turned from looking at me to staring off into the distance. "I knew that guys like Loki and his gang feed off of seeing other people in pain or anger or sadness. If I showed any emotion, I knew that he would try to use it against me. However, if I acted bored, I knew that he would not only have nothing to use on me, but he would also be angry at me for acting like I was bored."
I stared at him, mouth open. "It's scary how smart you are."
I'm not sure, but I think I saw him blush. "Thank you," he said shyly.