Disclaimer: Hercules the Legendary Journeys and its characters belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. The Kirra's Journey series is a profit-free endeavor to have fun with the characters and pass it on to my readers. The character of Kirra, however, and any other original characters in this series belong solely to me. I do have future episodes completely planned taking Kirra throughout the entire television series. So, any ideas you may have for additional episodes would be great (and subject to author's approval, of course).

If you enjoy this story, please leave a review. I'll review your work in return if you've posted any.

Cover photo is by Lili Popper on Unsplash.

Kirra's Journey

Episode 2 - A New Path

Chapter One

There was a chill to the morning despite the sun moving higher into the sky. Kirra knelt next to the stream, rubbing some warmth into her arms. She frowned at her bruised reflection in the water. She looked bad. Around the purpling bruise on her left cheek, her skin was pale, nearly colorless. No wonder Hercules blanched at the first sight of her. Thinking back on it left her mortified. She wished she could dip into the stream, let the waters cover her and never come out again.

It's my own fault I look like this, she thought.

That wasn't true and Kirra knew it. Just a little something she picked up living with Hiram. To shift the weight of his wrath from mother, she sometimes shouldered the blame for the misdeeds done around the house. When she did, she wouldn't have to hear mother pleading with Hiram not to hurt her, or hear the sobbing once the beating was over. Usually, Hiram was tougher on mother. Usually.

But, it was over now, wasn't it? She didn't have to hear him anymore, or feel the back of his hand across her face.

Neither would mother.

She buried the warbled image of her bruised cheek to the back of her mind and began to undress. She chanced a look behind before she removed the red and yellow bodice, making sure neither Hercules nor Salmoneus was anywhere near. She left them both asleep by the ashes of the campfire. She remembered waking up lying next to Hercules as if she were his…

Shouldn't think such things, she told herself, setting the bodice on a nearby rock and removing her skirts until she was down to her chemise. Hercules had taken care of her. It was rude and unappreciative to entertain such thoughts. She chastised herself by going knee deep into the cold water. It knocked the wind out of her, but it felt good, too.

The stream was deep enough for her to splash water over her legs and arms, her chest and neck, washing away the night and what happened in it, washing away her stepfather's touch.

Cupping water in her hands and wetting her hair, Kirra wondered how Hercules would deal with her presence here when he awoke. She knew little of him personally, but she had a feeling he might want to take her back home and deal with Hiram himself. She couldn't go back, not now. There were too many questions she would have to answer, too many consequences to face. It was better to convince Hercules to let her go with him to Attilas. Question was, would he be willing? Would he want her, an annoying girl, to tag along with him on his journey? Would she be a welcome asset or in his way, a lot of trouble?

Yes, there would be questions. Hercules had held off last night only because of her fragile condition. This morning would be a different story. She needed to figure out how to face Hercules like an adult and answer his questions thoughtfully.

Kirra scrubbed at her skin, grimacing at the pain her work-worn and calloused hands caused. She stared off into the distance at nothing, wanting to blank the images in her mind. They kept flashing forward. Hiram's beefy hands holding her down, his breath the smell of death in her nose, his weight crushing her…

Kirra retched and up came chunks of quail. The bits floated past her legs down the stream to the next village. Another one to write off the list of her favorite foods.

It was useless trying to wash away the filth that clung to her. All the scrubbing in the world couldn't take the memory away. Kirra scrambled out of the stream and quickly dressed. Sitting on a rock jutting out at the edge of the stream, the tears returned, brought on by her memories of the night before and of what was coming.

Hercules awoke to the sound of singing. Not jarring or loudly vocal, but soft and melodious humming. Last time he heard such singing his mother was in the kitchen making breakfast. Salmoneus liked to hum while he cooked, too, but this voice had a feminine tone. Opening his eyes, he saw Kirra.

Humming beautifully, she had rekindled the campfire and was digging into Salmoneus's pack for cooking utensils. She seemed happier in the light of morning, though the terrible bruises he noticed the night before had settled onto her cheek a dark purple. It would be several days before they faded. She had cleaned herself up, as well, looking much as she did when he met her at the festival. Most of her color had returned. Her hair tied once again in its braid and her dress, though dirty, was as smooth of rumples as she could make it.

Kirra caught sight of him as he sat up and gave him a smile. "Good morning, Hercules."

"Good morning, Kirra. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, much better," she said, avoiding his gaze. "I think getting some sleep was a big help." She turned and produced a handful of bird's eggs. "I collected some fresh eggs in a nest near here. I remember mother and I used to go roosting for these when I was little." Her face took on a faraway look before she returned to the present. "I thought you might like some."

"Sounds wonderful. I'm starved."

"How do you like them cooked?"

"With the yellow runny."

"Me, too. What about Salmoneus?"

"Ah, let him sleep. He'll wake up when he smells the food."

She smiled tentatively at his joke, but Hercules sensed Kirra was more troubled than she wanted to let on. Her movements were stiff and jerky, her words clipped, avoiding prolonged conversation. Behind her cheerfulness, there lurked a burden Hercules couldn't imagine. As jumpy as she was, he thought better of laying on the questions too soon. He tidied up their camp instead, and freshened himself up at the stream while she finished breakfast.

When he returned sometime later, Salmoneus had joined Kirra by the fire and was breathing in the scrumptious aroma of fried eggs.

"Ah," Salmoneus said, his eyes closed with an expression akin to bliss. "That smells like it was cooked on Mount Olympus itself."

Kirra gave a hearty laugh, her worries momentarily abandoned by Salmoneus's comical display. Hercules laughed himself and took a seat next to them by the fire.

"No, Salmoneus," he said, "it smells better."

Kirra said nothing, waving away their compliments.

"Ah!" Salmoneus clapped once and pointed a finger in the air as if to say, Wait one minute. From his travel bag, he produced three wooden platters. "It never hurts to come prepared." He set a platter before each of them.

The smell of food having taken over his senses, Salmoneus didn't notice the look of concern on Kirra's face at the sight of the platter, but Hercules did. It was only there a second or two and she hastily concealed her feelings.

When the business of cooking breakfast was complete, she shoveled half of the eggs into Salmoneus's platter, the other half into the platter before Hercules. They both looked down at her empty one, then up at her. She seemed unaffected by their curiosity, but ready to answer to it.

"Sorry. Guess I'm not hungry this morning."

"Alright," Hercules said.

"You two eat and I'll wash the cooking pan." She glanced at the curious looks on both of their faces and then got to her feet. "I'll be right back."

Kirra left camp with quick steps.

Fingers full of egg half raised to his mouth, Salmoneus paused. "What do you think that was all about?"

"I don't know," Hercules said, quietly worried.

He finished his breakfast, patiently listening to Salmoneus talk of Kirra's excellent cooking skills, and wondering how long it would take her to return from washing the pan. There was so much unsettled about her, he couldn't decide how to breach the subject. And how would she react if he did? What happened after he left their house? Whatever it was ate her up inside. Kirra may have had many years to learn how to conceal her emotions, but he was far more intuitive than she might ever know.

Deep in his thoughts, it took him a moment before he registered Salmoneus's silence. He looked at the salesman and saw the same worry mirrored in his expression.

"Do you think she's okay?"

He sighed. "I think it's time I found out." He held up a hand when Salmoneus rose to follow. "It's best if it's only one of us."

Salmoneus nodded. "You're probably right. I'm no good at that kinda thing anyway."

Excusing himself, Hercules left camp, slipping through a bank of trees and bushes to find Kirra kneeling beside the creek, frying pan in hand. The pan was as dry as a bone, never having touched water. She stared not at the pan but through it, her mind far away. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

The guilt of leaving her returned with the force of a mallet. His first thought was to turn and give her privacy, but he chose to keep his place. He had turned away when she needed his help the most. He couldn't do the same thing now.

"Kirra."

The sound of his voice brought her back from that place of sadness. In a flash, she dried up the tears and returned her smile to its place like a mask. "Hercules, I didn't hear you come over."

"Are you alright?"

"Of course!" she said, standing. "Are you finished eating already?"

It saddened him to see how quick she was to hide her feelings. "Well, there's some left," he said. "Are you sure you're not hungry? That was more than I could eat."

"Please," she said with a skeptical, but shaky laugh. "Half a plate of eggs? I doubt that. You should have the appetite of a satyr."

Hercules laughed. "No, I'm fine. It's was very good, by the way."

"Thank you," she said, her apprehension returning and he hadn't uttered a word. Kirra brought her attention back to the pan. The mask had dropped. She knew exactly why he came to find her.

Well, here goes, Hercules thought and took a deep breath. "Kirra … about last night…"

Her stomach knotted and churned. Not again. "Hercules—"

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, surprised. "Sorry?"

"For walking away when I should have done something to help you and your mother," Hercules said. "I should have..."

He started the sentence, but had no idea how he should finish it. What should he have done? From last night to now, it was hard to know what the right thing was.

"It's alright," Kirra said. "I understand why you did. I don't blame you for it."

Hercules nodded, but her words were not a comfort to him. "There's still the matter of your Stepfather to—"

"No there isn't," she said, her face set.

"Kirra," he said, taken aback by her matter-of-fact tone. "I cannot stand back and do nothing. After what I saw last night, and from the bruising on your face…" Hercules brushed her bruised cheek with his knuckles and she shied away ever so slightly. "What happened?"

Kirra only shook her head. She wouldn't look at him.

Hercules didn't want to guess, but he didn't want to pressure her either. "I may not have been able to help you last night, Kirra, but let me help you today."

"No," she said, her tone stronger than she had intended. She corrected herself and added, "I won't go back."

"What do you mean?"

Kirra took a few steps back, as if she thought Hercules might drag her back to the village. "I won't go back Endor. I can't. I'm sorry."

"I realize you're afraid, but I won't let anything happen to you. I promise you that."

"I know," she said, her voice wavering. "It's not only that I'm afraid..."

"Then, what is it? You can tell me."

"I ... I—" She thought, Mother made me promise, but didn't say it. "I can't. I just can't."

Hercules stepped closer, extending a placating hand. "Kirra, I don't understand."

Kirra backed away again, hugging herself, her heals dipping into the gently lapping stream. The terror of the night before was a wave of water, crashing over her and drowning her.

"No! Please, Hercules. I can't go back."

Hercules stepped away. "Relax. No one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to."

"Sorry," she said again. "I'm fine."

She hated the thought that he might see her as the damsel in distress, or the annoying little girl who used tears to get her way. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at Hercules with determination. "I know it doesn't make sense. Nothing does anymore. But I don't need you to save me. You said so yourself. It's time I started being my own hero."

"Then, what would you like for me to do? Where will you go?"

Kirra went from determined to bashful. "You mentioned something about going to Attilas—"

"Kirra…"

"I promise not to get in the way. Only as far as Attilas, that's all. Then, I promise I'll never bother you again."

"Helping you hasn't been a bother, Kirra. I just don't know if…"

"Oh, come on, Hercules!"

Salmoneus pushed his way out of the bushes where he had obviously been eavesdropping, and placed a protective arm about Kirra. It seemed the salesman had grown quite attached to her in a short period of time.

"We can't leave the poor girl to find her way on her own!"

Hercules gave him a disdainful glare, but otherwise ignored him. "As I was saying … I don't know if that's such a good idea. What about your mother? What if she or someone else comes looking for you?"

"She won't," Kirra said, thinking of mother thrusting the sack of clothes and travel supplies in her arm and shoving her out the door. "This was her idea. Trust me, Hercules. No one will be looking for me."

"I don't understand."

"Maybe we aren't supposed to yet," Salmoneus said.

It wasn't Salmoneus that made Hercules begin to change his mind. A sad certainty lived in Kirra's dark eyes. Whatever had transpired after he left had some terrible finality to it. He could speculate all he wanted, but it would do him no good to ask. Salmoneus was right. As long as Kirra wasn't ready to talk, they weren't supposed to understand.

"Well," he said as if raising a white flag. "I guess if you're coming along, you'd better be prepared for a long trip. It another day's journey to Attilas and I'm already late."

Her smile grew wider with his every word. She beamed through the tears when she said, "Thank you, Hercules."

Salmoneus slapped him on the arm with glee. "I knew you could do it, big guy!"

But Hercules did not feel so proud of himself. By taking this path, he was not helping her. He was letting her down. You cannot confront your problems if you run from them. However, he didn't know the whys and wherefores of Kirra's situations. Just because he was the son of Zeus didn't mean he had all the answers. Perhaps, in the end, this was for the best.

Against his better judgment, he would take her with him to Attilas. Maybe he could find a caring family who would take care of her. Who knows? If he left this matter to The Fates, Kirra could forge a new path. He couldn't go wrong in helping to guide her in a new direction.