Chapter 4

A dream of the past and future

O-O-O-O-O

Cast the ore to iron.

Hammer the shape and give meaning to the meaningless.

Sharpen the sickle and reap the harvests of Fate.

In the name of the King of Elysium, we dedicate our souls to this wish.

We, champions of mankind, pledge ourselves to you.

Bring forth the origin of all life. The Primordial Mother of the saltwater seas, the Ten-Crowned Whore upon the Serpent's back, the Lady of beasts and mountains, the Earth-Mother of Catalhöyük, and thine own Bride, the Queen who harvests the lands with gentle grace.

Bring forth the Great Mother, O Saturn. Return the world to the Paradise of Eden. Unite Gods and Mortals to return the world to its Golden Age.

The world was stirring.

Perhaps it was always changing, but now, in this era where he had been reborn, a great upheaval was beginning.

The Sun was spinning. Round and round, rising from sunrise and setting at sunset at an unprecedented rate. It shot across the sky, becoming faster and faster until it was little more than a belt of light splitting the heavens in two.

No, it wasn't getting faster. The days really were starting and ending in moments, and the sun only obeyed time's laws.

Where was he? He recognized this place. The small meadow on a mountain cliff, staring out over the island and the vast blue sea.

...Crete. He was home.

"Yes. This is home."

He turned to look at the voice- or rather, he tried. He could not turn at all, as he did not have a body. He was nothing more than a view, something that was not truly "here".

"Perhaps." The voice spoke again. This time, the speaker made herself known, appearing on the cliffside. Or had she always been there? "But in Morpheus' domain, who's to say what is 'real' and what isn't? What's 'here' and what's 'there'?"

The woman's hair was dark. A deep, earthly black, cascading down past her shoulders in twin braids, with a circlet of gold resting on top of her head. She was dressed in… a gown? It looked as though the winds themselves had woven into a fabric, a dress where countless flowers, leaves, and greenery danced over a meadow like the one she stood on right now. And as she turned to face him-

-She looked like Mother.

She looked like the woman who had named him, who had held him close when he was born. And yet she didn't at the same time. From the color of her eyes and skin, the way she wore her hair, even her smile was completely different from his mother Pasiphae.

And yet, everything about her screamed "mother".

"Hm, yes." The woman hummed. "People do tend to think that when they first meet me. It goes away quickly, I promise. Otherwise, that would have made my marriage quite awkward, you know?" She chuckled at her own comment. "It comes with the territory of being 'The' Mother, I suppose."

A breeze swept through the field, causing the grass beneath them to dance. The woman closed her eyes and basked in the summer wind.

"Haaaaaa… Whenever I need to unwind, I come here. My home. It's more than just where I was born, you know?" She opened her eyes to look at him. "It was where I became me. Where my mother's being, and her predecessors, and even my daughter would all culminate. Of course, there are other places like it, but this one is special to me." Her grass-green eyes focused on him. "And it's the same to you too, isn't it, Taurus?"

What?

The woman hummed to herself and turned back to the cliff. "Still, I didn't expect to see that thing up there," she said, gesturing to the belt of light the sun had become. She looked back over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Perhaps you had something to do with that, hmm? Maybe you saw something you shouldn't have? Something that hasn't happened yet?"

Something that hasn't happened yet? Was she referring to that ominous voice he had heard before arriving here? Was that some sort of premonition, an omen of things to come?

"I cannot say." The woman answered, reading his thoughts. "The branches of time grow upon a fickle tree indeed. It grows upon soil far outside the reach of any of us. Beyond Kronos, beyond the Moirai, beyond Aeon, or even Ananke. Which branch we are on is an impossible question to answer indeed."

The woman raised her hand, and a flower began to sprout from her palm. A simple daisy, a yellow spot surrounded by a frill of white petals. The woman plucked the flower from her hand and tossed it up, the wind snatching it and carrying it away.

"Perhaps this is a branch where the seven champions of Olympus defeat my mother… Or perhaps it is something else altogether." The woman turned to face him completely, stepping closer. "I do not know why you are here. But I remember who you are now, and who you used to be. I remember who I once was, and I have an idea of what my role in the events to come is. Perhaps you too will play a part in that event."

The sun in the sky began to slow down. It decelerated further and further, with night and day finally separating and becoming distinct from one another, until at last, the sun stopped, sinking below the sea as the fiery red sunset began to give way to the night.

"But I am no Oracle. What will come next, who you will meet, and if we shall see each other again is a future I can never be sure of. But for now, our time together has come to an end, O Starry One."

It's time to wake up, A***r*o*...

The Minotaur's eyes snapped open.

The Minotaur stirred, sitting up from beneath the wreckage that comprised his lodging. Blearily blinking at the sunlight filtering through the slits in his mask, he stood from his makeshift bedding to take in his surroundings.

He was still here, in his little cave hollowed out from a hill of junk. On one side, remnants of last night's dinner lay waiting to be swept up and disposed of, while on the other side Labrys was embedded in the husk of an old car.

"MmmMMMmmm…"

With a yawn and a long stretch, the Minotaur shook the last vestiges of sleep from his system and stepped outside, yanking Labrys from the car to take with him. It was late morning, with the sun slowly climbing to take its place in the middle of the sky.

He surveyed the land around him, looking out upon the place he had claimed as his territory.

It was a dump.

What was he thinking? It was a junkyard, a place for mortals to dump the old things they didn't want anymore. Why had he ever considered living in a land of trash to begin with?!

"RrrrRgGg…"

The Minotaur turned back and slipped into his trash-cave once again, packing up what little he had in preparation to move out. His belongings were scant; composed of little more than Labrys, the canvas cloth they had been delivered to him in, and a small circlet of pigeon feathers tied together by old twine.

The circlet was especially pointless, as the Minotaur's own inexperience in crafting trinkets had yielded an accessory that was far too small for his head or even his wrists. The best he could do was slip it over one of his horns instead. Upon completion of the trinket, the Minotaur also considered the fact that his mane was so large and fluffy that he could simply stick feathers in and they would not fall out, rather than going through the trouble of weaving a circlet to wear.

But since he had already finished it, he decided to keep it. Slipping it onto one of his horns and wrapping Labrys in their cloth (In case the Mist simply changed their form from an axe to another mortal weapon) the Minotaur left his home of junk behind, continuing on his nomadic city-hopping journey. The Demigod that brought him Labrys a few weeks ago, had said that the "Great Stirring" would draw him in. If he let his feet wander, maybe he would find himself somewhere interesting.

Slipping out of the junkyard and narrowly avoiding a run-in with its manager, the Minotaur was on the road again. During his time in the junkyard, he had managed to scrounge up a few articles of mortal clothing, though they were quite small on his large frame. Still, it was better than continuing to wear nothing more than the loincloth and metal corset-armor he had been wearing before.

He had managed to find some worn, blue pants that only went down to his shins and would most likely rip if he made any large movements like jumping or running, but would be fine for a calm walk. While all the shirts he found were too small for him to put on without getting stuck, he had managed to find a jacket he could wear, yet even that would not close in front and cut off midway past his abdomen.

He looked a bit ridiculous, but so long as no mortal ever confronted him about it, he figured it didn't matter.

The Minotaur took time to explore the town he was already in, as he usually preferred not to wander too far from the junkyard when hunting. It was a quaint place, seemingly an old industrial town that had seen better days, but wasn't doing too bad for itself now. The urban area near the junkyard was filled with abandoned brick buildings, places of production, and storage. While each of them would've made a far better shelter for him than the junkyard, most of them were already inhabited by mortals, whether on their own or in small groups. Rather than chase them off, he figured it would just be for the best if he found somewhere with as few humans in it as possible.

"HHhhhmMMm…"

Though that did raise the question, how did mankind find the resources to build such sprawling and grand architecture, but not the resources that the scattered beggars needed to live?

Humans were an enigmatic people indeed.

But what about him? Was he a human too?

The question seemed ridiculous. He had faded and gone to the pit. He could smell the scent of Demigods. He had horns.

But his mother had been human. So had his sisters and brothers. He had been named a human, and his halcyon days were spent frolicking among them. Or just his siblings, at least.

But those were only a few years. He had grown up in the maze, where he had learned to survive, to fight, where he became a man.

...Yes, it was a foolish question. He was not human.

The Minotaur shook away those thoughts and returned to sightseeing the town.

...That building looked familiar.

No, not just that building. The others around it too. And the road. And the car parked right there. And-

"You looked confused, sonny." The Minotaur turned to the source of the voice, seeing an elderly mortal woman in an apron sweeping away some dust in front of a small shop. "This is the fifth time you've passed by my store, you know. You've just been circling this block over and over for the past thirty minutes." The mortal paused her sweeping and looked up at him. "Lost in your thoughts?"

"..."

"Not much of a conversationalist, eh? Just thought you looked lost." she returned to sweeping. "You must be new around here. I think I'd remember if a big fellow like you had wandered around here before." The elderly woman sighed. "It's such a shame, you know. So many young souls getting lost, losing their way. Because of the way our society expects them to do this and that, look like so-and-so, act like them-and-theirs and so on. It's not good to judge the youth by something they can't control, or force them into positions they don't want. In the end, at best you'll get burnout. Mostly, you'll find teens on the streets. And at worst, you'll get a real monster."

The woman looked up to see the Minotaur staring at her, not saying a word. She laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, I've got a tendency to ramble a bit. I used to be a wanderer myself. Hitching from place to place and never settling down. But then I came back here, to my home." With a wistful gaze, she turned back to look at her shop. "Sonny, a word of advice if you're listening to me. It may be for the best that you cut out the toxicity and grief out of your life. A family isn't a family if they treat you like shit, after all. But make sure you hold onto the memories. Not to cherish, or look back on fondly, but just for the sake of remembering. Sometimes, just remembering what had happened before is enough to open up a path to something that can happen in the future." She sighed. "For all the terrible memories I had in this place, I'm glad I remembered it existed. The past few decades have been the best in my life. But, I digress. You just remind me of myself. You shouldn't need to find out who you are. You already know. You just need to remember."

As the old woman turned around, the large man she had been speaking to had already left. She sighed again, turning away, and returned to sweeping.

The Minotaur had only just left moments before the woman had turned around, turning her advice round and round in his head. Just have to remember? Remember what he had been through, who he had been? It was interesting advice indeed.

As he pondered, his feet found themselves wandering around the block again, turning into an alley that led to a dead end. Still lost in his thoughts, he was snapped out of them as he ran into the wall at the alley's end. What was he doing here? Why had he walked into this old dead-end? He turned around to leave, and yet…

There was something. He was here for a reason, he had to be. There was something about this block, this alley that was keeping him around.

Combing his mind for an answer, he turned to the woman's advice and searched his memories. His memories, his memories. What did he remember? The junkyard, the old mortal, a… vague memory of a woman and a cliffside, the Demigod, his Labrys, the cities, the smell of the sea, a pit of fire, a hero, a maze…

A maze. Yes, that memory was the clearest, no matter how many millennia ago it happened. He remembered it, the darkness, the torchlight, the others imprisoned within, and the time he spent with his head locked away in his mask. He could feel it. The maze, it was calling to him. He just needed to…

The Minotaur reached out to the back alley wall once more, focussing on the memory of the maze, pulling on the faint call it gave to him.

And like that, the earth under the wall opened up revealing a staircase into the darkened maze where he had lived almost his entire life. His home.

"Just remembering what had happened before is enough to open up a path to something that can happen in the future."

There was only a little hesitation before the Minotaur stepped forward and let the darkness of the Labyrinth swallow him up once again.

Cing Krimson's Qringe Korner: FUUUUUUUTUUUUUUUURE

I really don't know what else to say. Maybe I'm getting too ambitious, but I blame my own original story and F/SN for making me so obsessed with crossing different mythologies together.