All Jason knew now was running. They had been constantly on the run for the past 24 hours, barely stopping to rest or eat, and his more stationary life with Pythagoras and Hercules hadn't prepared him to be on guard this much, with his head on a swivel, constantly looking for the next dangerous obstacle.
Their escape route had been planned by the Oracle, and he was grateful for her help – giving them somewhere to go, somewhere to flee to, with a common goal in mind. It helped them all stay sharp and focus, as they put one foot in front of the other. Just one more step, and they would be closer to safety and rest. One more step, and he could finally sit with Ariadne, dream about fleeing Atlantis together and finding a cottage by the sea – that is, if she, like him, didn't see fighting the long, hard, arduous process of fighting Pasiphae. He hadn't been in Atlantis long, and was already tired of the constant "what-if" scenarios playing in his head, the responsibility of his destiny echoed in his ears each night. Sometimes it would just be easier to leave the guilt, the fear of the future, and the responsibility behind.
As Pythagoras and Hercules picked up their pace, Jason brought himself out of his head and back into the landscape. They had traveled past the deserts, into the mountains and now were facing a mountain face with notches high in the clouds. There were some old tracks and equipment nearby – this must be the silver mines, he mused.
Now leading the group, he barreled full speed ahead, not liking the openness of the mine entrance. Everyone around the perimeter could see them, and he saw a swish of movement that proved his point. Slowing down to a more cautious tiptoe, he led the group into the dark unknown.
The path they were on led straight to a fire, though the quiet dampness of the cave made Jason's heart shiver. At the brink of the quietness, suddenly, shrouded figures emerged. They were led by one man who simply stated, "Please. We did not mean to startle you. We mean you no harm." It was then – and only then – that Jason realized these men were lepers, or "the walking dead".
The man's name was Tychon, and over a short period of time, he proved himself to be very astute – knowing Ariadne was princess, picking up on Jason's feelings… there was something familiar in his eyes, too, a sense of longing and a gleam of pride. He spoke of loyalty and power, and Jason could tell simply by the weight of his words that he had lived much, and lost much through his disease.
Just as quickly as the moment came to rest, eat, and relax, it left again as the lepers came out and the mood changed – back to being hunted. Tychon led the group through more tunnels, away from Pasiphae's clutches. Soon he could see light, and Jason's heart slowed slightly. They were back to running on land, something he had too much practice with already. Tychon's sudden stop jolted him back into awareness, and the shared look that passed between them was one of soldiers, fighting for the same cause: to keep Pasiphae's evils away, and to protect Ariadne.
All Jason knew now was running – constantly keeping his eyes open for pesky branches or rocks that could twist an ankle and lead to more trouble than they were in – which was saying something, he mused. It wasn't until Ariadne stopped her dead sprint that he realized they weren't being followed by four familiar feet, but they would have time to regroup with Hercules and Pythagoras soon enough.
For such a sweet moment, all he could hear were their ragged breaths – but soon enough, the inevitable happened. He couldn't mistake Pasiphae's bark, and knew her dogs had found them. He stopped behind a tree, ridding himself of the extra bags he carried for their journey, and urged Ariadne to go on ahead.
The first soldier was easy – a blade left his hands before he could even blink. Before he knew it, more soldiers appeared, and the easy dance began – parry, dodge, thrust, parry again… all until he heard the one sound he was dreading. Hearing Ariadne's panicked cry – his name, she was counting on him – was the last thing he heard.