The gentle scent of maple wood filled my nostrils as I ran my finger across the counter. A smile spread across my lips, prompted by the ding of the bell above the door. The dimly lit room, with the flickering lantern in the corner, made for a warmly welcome, or perhaps a creepy one. The odd but weird familiarity, with the room sent shivers down my spine. Why? The question rang in my mind, this was my store, i was serving coffee as I had thousands of times. I scratched the back of my head and quickly forgot what I was thinking.

"Welcome," I spoke, my smile broadening to greet the newcomer. My gaze followed the customer, and my smile froze in place. My tongue clicked, a reflexive gesture. One that seemed to be more natural, than the forced smile.

"A lion," I whispered to myself. A lion at a coffee shop? Confused by my own reaction, my frown grew, and the corners of my cheeks dropped. The crease on my forehead deepening, my saliva catching in my throat. An awkward response, one that shouldn't arise from greeting a customer.

"A lion like no other," that was the phrase echoing in my mind. Its golden mane danced with the incoming breeze, its eyes as green as emeralds, its body larger than any lion I had ever encountered. "Blessed be the light," it spoke, and as if it was a trick of the light, its form flickered into that of a man, a smile gracing his face. His teeth gleamed as much as his polished bald head. Those same green eyes stared into mine, a sense of revulsion welled up inside me. His grin was so unsettling that I flinched in disgust. The hair beneath his nose shone golden, like the warm rays of the sun.

The phrase unsettled me, the frown marred on my face remained and it ever so slightly increased. However, regaining my composure was not difficult; as the owner and sole employee of a coffee shop, patience was one of my virtues, thus, as swiftly as the frown had formed, it was replaced by a smile as luminous as the eternal light.

'Patience' was a strange word, and even the mere thought of it induced an unsettling sensation. Was I ever really a patient guy? Goosebumps erupted along my arms, something was wrong—I was certain of it. Every instinct within me was on high alert, urging me to act. My muscles coiled in anticipation as I instinctively reached for my sword, but then confusion set in. What sword? As my gaze fell to my empty hand, the realization dawned on me—why would I possess a sword? And just like that, my unfounded fears dissipated, quenched like a tiny flame doused by water. A wave of tranquility washed over me, spreading a gentle, soothing calm throughout my being.

A sword? How ridiculous was that thought? I was a barista not a warrior, I shook it off as I smiled.

"How can I help you?" I asked as he made his way to the counter, every step he took assaulted my nose with a pungent odor, it smelt like the unwashed fur of a stray cat, stained with blood and waste. The false smile wavered, I almost couldn't contain my facial expressions. With a strained smile on my face, I waited for his response. His face shifted in pleasure as he looked at my selections, an odd gleam in his eyes.

Ding! The clock I didn't know I owned ticked, the outside light flashed black, day turning into night.

Odd. I turned to look at the man to see his reaction, I almost stepped back in fear, the giant lion was in my face, a scar ran across its left eye to the base of his chin. Yet as odd as it was, I wasn't the least bit scared, in fact a smile graced my lips, its jaws opened wide as it lunged at me. The lion's giant teeth threatened to make me into minced meat, but I persevered, by holding his mouth open. The struggle between man and beast had only just begun. The muscles in my arms bulged as I tried ripping it in half. Its jaws tightening and fighting me, the saliva dripping down from its giant canine teeth. 

Ding! The clock chimed again, the light returned, and the man spoke.

"Can I have a pumpkin spice cappuccino?" The smile on his face hadn't faded since his arrival, and the calmness in his face told me what I needed to know. I put my hands down and awkwardly rubbed the back of my head. "Right away sir" I told him with the politest smile I could muster, I used every bit of my expertise to make him his drink, and quite frankly I was bad. Why did I own a shop? I wondered as I shrugged and handed him a drink, the thought of payment never even entered my brain. Perhaps that was the only warning I needed to know something was amiss.

He smiled at me as he sipped his drink, the smile on his face never faltering, considering the taste of the drink, it was an odd sight. A horrid smell of wet fur assaulted my nose. The smell of burnt flesh wasn't as bad as this.

Why do I know that? The smile on my face came undone.

Yet as if it was a compulsion the corners of my lips were forcibly raised and a smile came unto my face. "Who are you?" My voice barely left my mouth an odd force restricting my actions and words. More importantly who was I?

His face never changed, he just kept on sipping that stupid drink with that dumb smile on his face, my words leaving my mouth as if talking to a specter, his face lit with a joy that could not be faked.

His moustache soaked in coffee, reminded me of something. Yet for the life of me I couldn't remember.

Ding! The clock chimed again, and the lion appeared before my eyes. Once again, my hands gripped each side of its jaws, my muscles flared as I tried my hardest to rip it in half. I couldn't manage to do it, so I pushed it off. It leaped backwards and got ready to pounce. I wish I had a sword, a sword I never knew appeared in my hand. Convenient. A smile graced my face. 

I wished to cut the world in two and so I did, the illusion shattered, and my reality unfolded, I looked at my shoulder, holes the size of fingers appeared, blood dripping as fast as a running stream. I had been in worse states before, I shook my head unworried, my knuckles whitened as I gripped the sword in my hand.

Thats right, I didn't own a coffee shop, I was a warrior, the greatest my world had ever seen.

Mangy mutt, damned blessed, cursed world. I spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor, my gift to the gods beneath my feet. I was in an arena surrounded by spectators. The crowd was roaring, my ears flared at the noise, "Cassius, Cassius" They cheered their hands clapping, their feet stomping, the sun in the sky baring down on me, the sweat and blood in my eyes. My hands littered with cuts and drenched in sweat. My buckler on the floor.

"IS THIS THE BEST YOU HAVE TO OFFER?" I screamed, the crowd's cheers rising as I raised my sword, my gaze fixed on the cursed runt. Nothing felt right; I was beyond my limits. My vision was blurry, my consciousness flickering. Yet I tasted the blood in my mouth and smiled. Hadn't I been in this place many times before? And each time, I had emerged victorious. My hot breath fogged the arena, The wind in my lungs gone. Gripping my sword as firmly as I could, I braced for the lion's charge. As it lunged towards me, I mustered all the strength I had left and swung.

Clang! The sword broke on its fur, the force bringing it down, but faster than I could take advantage of it, the creature recovered. 'quick' I thought, as the beast recovered, my hands empty, a smile on my face, I matched its fury, I lunged as it attempted to bring me down, the lion stood on its hind legs, my hands gripping its paws. I felt my eyes narrow as I wrestled with it, the claws of the creature capable of killing any man, but I wasn't any man. Perhaps it was the confidence in my physique blessed by the dead god of strength, or maybe it was the blessing of the fallen god of combat, his dying ember trapped in my rib.

The lion roared in my face as it tried to overpower me, its saliva sprayed all over me, its breath, was pungent and nauseous, the stench entering my nostrils. A beast was a beast regardless of its sponsor, no amount of blessings would make this runt anything more than a wild animal. My fingers locked with theirs, I was winning, inch by inch I pushed it back. Even when my arms were a bloodied mess, they were still better than a wild beast. it thrashed and panicked as a mutt would, it probably didn't expect a human to match its strength, it attempted to push me off, and in its stupidity, it tried to bite me once more. I let go of its paws, the air seemed to slow, my hands glided through the air each catching a side of its jaws. The holes in my shoulders ached, but I knew what must be done.

For the third and final time, my hands clenched around each side of its giant jaws, knuckles whitening with fever, my arms shaking with vigor. Muscles bulged and tensed, a clear sign I was almost at my limits, I screamed as I let out every bit of effort in my soul, tearing it apart. Snap! The sound of its jaw breaking reverberated across the arena, the light from its eyes fading and its body limp. With a thud the giant beast fell, intoxicated by the fight and the thrill, I roared as I held up its corpse. I stood as I stared at the crowd. Even with the crowd's cheers, and the ringing in my ears, the only thing I could hear were my loud breaths, in all honesty I felt that I could keel over any second.

With the Lion dead, I stared into the eyes of its sponsor and smiled.