He couldn't see the stars...
The man walked down the street of the strange city, wondering how it was at all possible. How could it be so? Just what could have made such rapid growth and development possible in the time he had been gone from this world and into the stars?
Maybe he should not be so surprised at the mortal's developing abilities. He had watched them from the stars for thousands of years. Even though his soul was technically in Hades, his spirit still wandered through the sky, observing the world beneath him. And it was from that perfect vantage point, the one the great hunter would have envied during his mortal life, that he watched the mortals become what they were.
The overwhelming majority had turned their backs on the gods of Olympus, and worshiped different, strange things to him. But he dismissed this as, of course, humans would have forgotten the gods if they did not interfere often. And the mist was still as effective as ever at keeping him and the others hidden in plain sight, so the mortals never knew that the old myths still roamed among them.
And of course, their was the development of their urban centers. He still remembered the nights when even in the middle of the city, he could still look up and enjoy the pleasure of a brilliant night sky. The only light was the light of torches, and they were no match against the powers of the moon and stars against the black sky. He remembered the thrill of hunting by the moonlight, the silvery glow making his hunts seem almost as if they were from a dream...
But no more of that, apparently. Now the mortal's invention, or better say, usage, of electricity made seeing the stars in the middle of this city virtually impossible. That saddened the hunter greatly, for it seemed that many mortals no longer respected the natural strength and beauty of the world around them. The only thing he saw as he looked into the sky was the moon...and he bit back a grunt of disgust.
How could she have done that to him, he thought. Betray him like that. To swear her love, and then execute him with her arrow, just minutes after proclaiming her love for him? How could...?
He forced the memories from his mind. The goddess Nemesis had given him a clear view of what happened. And he knew that the wench, who proclaimed herself a goddess of the hunt, would eventually become the one who ran for her life from a hunter.
It was this thought that had spurred him to accept Lord Kronos's offer at rebirth. To accept the powers of a sort of practical godhood. And to accept the oath to destroy Artemis. No, he would not kill her, as that would be impossible. He would destroy her...and scatter her to the winds. Her, and all of her back-stabbing little wenches she had the nerve to call "hunters".
She would pay. And he was on a mission to help bring that about.
Kronos was working out his plans on Olympus, and had given him free reign to formulate his own plans to annihilate Artemis. Taking her out would be a very good move, as the bitch was a highly vocal and swaying goddess. With her gone, a large chunk of Olympian power would be broken, and The Hunt would prove to be no threat whatsoever.
He had brooded for many a month trying to figure out a way to do so. He may be a sort of "three-fourths" god, but he was still mortal, and could still die from a offensive power, if powerful enough, which Artemis was. And he needed to get past her huntresses, who, despite his feelings, were very good fighters in their own right. He needed allies.
He needed a band of his own.
And that was how the idea came into his head. Artemis had her huntresses. And she was the goddess of the hunt. And now he, who rivaled the vast majority of the Olympian world, needed to make his own followers.
He needed a brotherhood. A brotherhood to her sisterhood. A brotherhood of the hunt.
Yes...it was perfect.
He thought of Zoe Nightshade, Artemis's lieutenant. He knew how fiercely loyal she was to her. And he realized from watching her, that he would need someone of her caliber to be the lieutenant of his own group. Someone who possessed unnatural courage, and the ability to endure far more than what he may have thought possible.
But finding someone of this type, who would be able to stand having such reveals given to them, to be willing to help him make all this possible, would be difficult. He wondered if even Hercules could have done it, despite success on his famous "Twelve Labors". He chuckled in dark humor.
He would need a boy who could rival her in all ways, and yet still be able to eventually grow to surpass her and maybe even more...
He needed to find a warrior...
But his brooding thoughts were quickly silenced by a muffled cry.
Mortals would not have heard the whimper. But the hunter was no mortal. And his hunter ears picked up the cry like he might hear a deer moving in the brush, and he turned in it's direction. It had come from beyond an alleyway beside him, next to an apartment building, a rather run-down one at that. The hunter listened again and heard the cry of pain once more, and immediately set off in pursuit, curious as to see what was causing it.
He reached the end of the ally and turned to his right, and found the source of the pain filled cries. And his heart nearly exploded in anger and pity.
Before him, tied and gagged in the middle of the alley, was a young boy. The heavy rain that had been falling all night pelted his almost naked body relentlessly. Above him, two females, one significantly older then the other, both stood with cigarettes in their hands, laughing at him.
The older one sneered and lowered herself slowly to the boy. The boy whimpered and tried to worm his way away from from her, but the younger girl placed a foot on him and held him in place. The older woman scoffed.
"I bust my ass all day and night, and you sit in your room and laugh and play all the time. Well, guess what happens runt? You get punished, that's what!"
With that, the woman thrust her lit cigarette into the boy's midsection. The boy howled in pain against the gag, and the woman twisted the cigarette several times to put it out in his flesh. She cackled as she did, as if she were actually enjoying the pain she was causing to this poor boy.
"You know you are just an accident right? Your father is dead, and no one is coming for you. So just suck it up and take it!"
The hunter felt his blood begin to boil. His fists clenched.
The younger girl leaned down behind the boy as he was reeling in pain from the previous burn. And she performed the same maneuver, this time burning the cigarette into the small of his back, forcing the boy to arch his back in pain. Another heartrending cry was given, but was in vain against the gag upon his mouth.
Both girls laughed. And that was when the hunter refused to watch anymore.
With confident strides, he burst from the darkness of the corner he had watched from. The younger girl never saw it coming. His first flung out and struck her in the back of the head. He never even saw her eyes as she fell, but if the crack he heard was any evidence, it was sure she would not be getting up again for some time.
The older woman only had enough time to look up in surprise, and the hunter's hand lashed out in a vicious backhanded slap. His unnatural strength was augmented by his anger, and the woman was flung against the apartment building's wall. Smashing against it, she crumbled to the ground.
The hunter did not check to see if she or the other were still alive. He frankly did not care.
He heard a weak cry from at his feet, and looked down to see the boy. Instantly, his face turned from fury, to pity. Stoic, but very much with pity. The boy seemed twelve or thirteen. His hair was filthy, and his body was in desperate need of a thorough washing. He slowly looked up to look at his rescuer, and gasped in shock. The hunter shook his head.
"I see you have found out what women are truly made of..." he told him.
The boy continued to be afraid of him, and the hunter knew that he had best make introductions quick. He could not afford to leave this boy here. He was too badly hurt, and he would receive no help here.
He decided to do the only thing he could do. Take him with him, at least for the time being. It was the least he could do to reverse the damage women had caused the world...for the moment.
He reached down and gently scooped the shivering boy in his arms. His place of temporary residence was not far at all, and the mist would obscure anyone seeing him carrying the boy. The boy weakly struggled, and the hunter gave him a warm, reassuring smile.
"You need not worry, young man. I will not harm you. My name is Orion."
The boy heard his words, and stopped struggling. It was as if he sensed something that put him at ease, and incredibly, the boy closed his eyes. Orion had a panicked thought that he may have died, but found the boy was still breathing steadily, his breathe against his chest. He had passed out from pain.
Good. Pain was something Orion could take away once he got him to shelter.
Orion the hunter carried the boy out of that alley. Out of that miserable existence. Hopefully, he thought, he might be able to give this boy something more...
Hello my friends...miss me? I hope you liked this little prequel. I promise that the Brotherhood tale will continue very shortly.