Vasiliás
Blackjack
I
As destruction ravaged the land above, purging the world of all hope, a man wrapped in shadows laid a shaking hand on his son's lowered head.
"This will be your final quest, my son. No matter what, you must save the world."
/*\
Blackjack used to be a pegasus.
Pegasuses didn't exist anymore.
Nothing like them existed anymore. Electricity, wind, water currents, solar power, natural disasters...
Gods.
Demigods.
Monsters.
All that was left were mortals. Mortals that were slowly dying.
Blackjack was once a proud pegasus who took great pride in soaring through the sky. Now, he was a simple, black horse, wandering the world in search for salvation.
And doughnuts. He was hungry.
The thought caused him to lift his head and breathe in deeply. Nope, no doughnuts. He could smell some former monsters, but they were all harmless, now. The monsters had changed to snakes, or seals, or other mortal creatures.
Blackjack would scoff, but he was a mortal horse, so... yeah.
Then, another scent caught his attention. No! It couldn't be...
Blackjack bolted off towards the scent without another thought.
/*\
When he came closer to the scent, he could tell his nose hadn't lied.
It was her! The hellhound!
Well, she was just a black dog, now, but it was still her!
Blackjack called out in greeting. The hound raised her head from where she was cheerfully sniffing out an old deer carcass.
Ears perking up, Mrs. O' Leary barked happily at the incoming horse. The two sniffed each other first (just to be sure), before touching noses and dancing around each other in joy. Blackjack whinnied in elation, before abruptly realizing that this kind of behavior did not suit such a dignified pega – horse.
When he tried to explain this to Mrs. O' Leary, however, she just licked him on the snout.
And bounded away.
Blackjack froze. She wasn't – she couldn't be leaving – he didn't want her to -
Then she turned around and cocked her head at him questioningly.
Oh. She wanted him to follow her. He knew that.
He followed.
/*\
They had been examining some bones when they heard it.
A whistle.
Mrs. O' Leary immediately perked up, barked at him, and raced off towards the sound.
Blackjack followed. He had nothing else to do.
When they got to the source of the whistle, he froze. It was a mortal (obviously).
But – but – he knew this mortal! He wasn't – he hadn't been – he used to be -
This boy used to a demigod.