CLASH of the TITANS

CHAPTER

—III—

PERSEUS, SON OF THE FISHERMAN

17 YEARS LATER—

SERIPHOS| He saw a giant eagle soaring through the bright blue skies above him, his mighty, golden wings outstretched proudly like sharp blades cutting through the clouds ahead. Its majestic call resounded in the emptiness, heralding folktales of old— call from lofty Olympus herself. Perseus watched the great bird of prey hover for a while before vanishing into the haloed sun.

The small caique fishing boat rocked steadily over the waves. They were labouring just an hour from Hydrea, a deserted volcanic island off the coast of mainland Greece. The usually still waters were disturbed by some commotion on board. "Steady! Steady! Quit your daydreaming, boy!"

Perseus took the reins of the net from his father who was pulling at it with shaky arms. "You're getting slow, old man," he chuckled and Dictys patted the boy on the back as the younger man hoisted the heavy net onto the ship.

Perseus had grown into a fine young man. Tall and dark haired, strong build and a face that Dictys was glad he did not get from him. By this point the fisherman had discovered the boy's lineage…. he would tell him of it when the time was right… but it was never easy and his hesitation always stayed his tongue every time he tried to tell him.

Taking after his biological father, no doubt, many Seriphos women chased after him and Perseus often showed little serious interest to their advances beyond casual flirting. Most of his efforts and attention were given towards helping his doting mother and his old father out with chores and fishing as well as taking care of Clymene. He guessed he did not have much time for women, much to the disappointment of his mother, of course.

No, Perseus seemed like he was content with his lot in life. Content to just be Perseus, the son of Dictys, a fisherman.

He grabbed the net and pulled it into the holding cell hatch. It was a small catch, nothing to sing about and definitely not enough to feed the entire town. "Well, that's disappointing," Perseus remarked.

"Another blessing from the gods," Dictys spat, disgruntled and enraged. "Hopefully, Barnabas and Elpenor will have a better time of it."

"Well, they should," said the young man. "They're aboard the Little Ikaros. It's your lucky ship, father."

The fisherman huffed. "Luck' is being so insignificant that the gods of Olympus forget to torment you in the afternoon."

Perseus chuckled but cautiously. Though he did not fall in with the fanatical, he respected the gods the same way his mother did and knew better than to temper their ever-changing moods. Especially with the tensions across the mainland, and the threat of war in the air, there was so much to lose now.

After sometime on the open sea, Dictys deemed it best to return home and they could try spear fishing amongst the shallow reefs. Perseus' gaze was taken back to Hydrea. The lonely island looked dead, uninhabitable, but on the other side, he could see the shores of Mainland Greece— the lofty cliffs hid the bay whereupon stood the Greek city-state of Argos…his mother's homeland. They did not trade with Argos, despite its rather close proximity, instead opting for the larger coastal cities of Attika to do business. But often those days saw little trade out of Seriphos, either in rare sea-life or precious metals and gems from the mines and quarries. His father would call it a blessing from Olympus in his sarcastic way, but Perseus was more on the pragmatic thought that most of Mainland Greece was too busy fighting each other to look upon anyone without suspicion.

Suddenly he felt his father's hand grip him by the hem of his tunic, pulling him to a crouch. "I told you to quit your daydreaming, boy." The older fisherman chided him in an aggravated whisper. They had ducked behind the boat's railing and pointed out over the ocean only a few knots ahead.

They were passing the remains of a sunken island, littered with old ruins. In the centre of what should have been a temple complex was a creature not common in those parts…well, they were not common anywhere in the realm of the living.

A creature with visibly feminine features, great, big, leathery bat-like wings and taloned feet was grazing on one of the half-submerged temples. A fury: a creature of darkness, an angel of revenge was far from her usual abode, down in the depths of the Underworld. Its glowing yellow eyes were scanning the waters before her and for a moment they landed on their vessel. Perseus watched as her head followed them across, his heart began to race but his father's hand landed on his son's heart. He whispered to quiet down and wait for them to pass. The fury did nothing.

It was not like a fury to do 'nothing'—in fact, the only time they were every out on the surface world was when summoned to enact their vengeance upon the cursed. They were normally focused, unshaken in their duties and once it was fulfilled, would retreat back into the shadows of death with little more than a shriek and a lot of bodies in their wake.

This one seemed to be…loitering?

No…

They saw something else—the fury seemed to be nestled by a small mound of twigs and cloth, from where she attained these things, Perseus could not guess. To him though, it looked to be a nest. Again, he could not discern if it was empty or not.

"This is probably why all of the fish have disappeared," Dictys muttered. "Keep absolutely still." He then moved to the caique steering tiller and silently ordered Perseus to look overboard and help steer them out of the ruins.

They were quiet, making sure not to make overtly sharp turns which was reliant on Perseus' direction. Like making their way through a maze of eggshells, the small fishing vessel slid through arches and downed pillars but just before making clear of the sea-temple, Perseus risked a look back. He made direct eye-contact with the creature— the fury only looked back, tilting her head as she watched them pass, either not caring or not wanting to leave her rock, she let them go.

Thus, the ship continued on unabated. The rest of the trip was mostly conducted in silence with nothing but the steady wind in their sails and the thumping of the waves against the bow of their boat.

When at long last they saw the island, Perseus couldn't help but smile. Seriphos was not a large place by any stretch of the imaginary. They were small, filled with small people, humble people, and it suited him just fine. He dreaded to think what the appearance of an Underworld fury might mean for all of that.

They entered into the crescent bay and docked in close enough to shore for Leander in his smaller dingy to make his approach, ready to receive the bounty of fish and its fisherman to take to shore. Two separate boats came in and the two fishermen threw them their riggings where they then proceeded to direct them all to shore. It did not take as long as Dictys had thought, mostly due to his immense load-bearing-son, the job was done in a mere moment.

"Rough seas out there, Perseus?" Leander asked him, providing some light conversation as he ferried them home.

"Quite the opposite, actually," replied Perseus, tucking the net of fish deeper into the boat, making sure not a single creature could be reclaimed by the waters. "There's barely any activity out there at all. I think perhaps something's spooked the fish nearby."

"All in all, I fear for the island's prosperity if these misfortunes persist."

"Always the optimist, Dictys."

Once they were docked, another dockhand tied the caique to the pier and helped them unload the net full of fish and lobsters. Disappointment was not exclusive to the fishermen as the other workers upon seeing their catch, one conducted even by the best, had yielded so little, their hearts sank. Dictys caught their dismay and assured them that the other boats would have better luck; but all that Leander could do was scoff at this.

"Well, if even the great Dictys came home empty-handed, then I have strong doubts that others would have done better."

"You of such little faith," Perseus tried to laugh as he emptied the next mesh bag into another basket.

His father scoffed at the sentiment. "Faith." He tried not to sneer.

"We should be thankful for what we have, Dictys." Leander preached though even he sounded less than convinced of his own words.

Again, Perseus' father scoffed. "I'm an old man, lad. I'm tired of being thankful for scraps. One of these days someone is going to stand up to them…one of these days, someone is going up to a god and say 'Enough!'"

Perseus was in awe. He patted his father on the shoulder, the man was indeed getting too old for this type of work. He told him to sit down and rest for a moment while Leander and himself got to consolidate their finds into fish and crustations.

Dictys also reminded them to inform the chief of the fury nesting in the sunken ruins to the northern waters, a fact that also had Leander freeze up. The young man looked to Perseus, perhaps asking him to confirm, but that worried look in his eyes told him multitudes.

—O—

Seriphos was small. No more than seven hundred people lived on the whole island itself. In that case, everyone knew everyone, and knew where everyone lived. Though Chora was where most of that population was centralised, it could hardly be called a city or a town. To most especially those from larger Mainland cities, Chora was more a hamlet, small and humble and quaint. It was ruled over by a chief: Polydectes, younger brother of Dictys.

Polydectes did not deal with many serious threats in his lifetime. Most of his worries rest in commerce and the island's wellbeing and happiness. To this, Perseus thought that news of a monstrous fury so close to the island would definitely put a damper on his day.

The little hamlet was buzzing at that moment. People all over were rushing here and there, working to put up decorations like flags and colourful lanterns on ropes attached to the rooves of people's houses. In the town square had been heavily decorated with shrouds of many bright colours, hanging on rope and wire. Lining the walls of those houses were long feasting tables that surrounded a large fire-pit in the centre. They were to celebrate a wedding that night.

A wide, elevated stage was set up at the door of the bride's house. It was for this that most of Chora was too busy for anything else. He spotted a young woman from among the people, being doted upon by an army of older ladies.

"Iphigenia!" he called to her and approached them.

"Oh, good morning, Perseus."

He was about to continue on when Myrrine came between them. "Not a step closer, Perseus. I don't want you dishonouring the bride-to-be."

"Mother-Myrrine!" Iphigenia whined indignantly. "She means nothing by that, Perseus."

"That's quite alright. Myrrine just wants me all to herself." He replied with a wink and a sly half-smile to both ladies, both of whom simply laughed. "Actually, I wanted to ask if you've seen your betrothed anywhere."

"Sorry. I don't believe Nestor's back from the quarry just yet."

They were soon joined by another young man, about Perseus' age. "Apparently, they found a new passageway in the mines," said Ixas, son of Metiochos as he set his bow and quiver down. "Nestor was asked to stay back and help build the supports." Ixas was Perseus' best friend. He was a shorter man, and more brooding; but like him, Ixas was not a native of Seriphos, coming instead from Corinth in Mainland Greece, fleeing with his family after the constant warring of the great city-states.

The two became friends almost instantly.

"Why do you need Nestor?" the bride-to-be then asked him.

"Oh, I was just curious. I need to see Polydectes about an issue and I need Nestor to make a successful point."

Ixas simply chuckled. "Good old reliable Nestor. Well, if you do meet up with him, tell him to meet me at the wine-house after work. On that note don't forget to bring yourself there too."

Only Iphigenia seemed to be strongly opposed to this course of action, looking at the two young men with a disproving scowl. "Oh no, you don't." the young, auburn-haired woman growled at them. "I know you two. You'll only get Nestor drunk out of his arse. We're to be wedded tomorrow and I can't let my father think any less of my soon-to-be husband than he already does!"

"Fine, we won't go to the winery." Ixas submitted before taking a long wooden fishing spear from the corner of the house. "I'm hearing some commotion out at sea, Perseus. I think I'll stick closer to the shores for a while. Ikaros maybe lucky, but I'd rather not push that luck today."

"Fair enough, and your instincts do you credit."

Then the two friends parted ways but not before planting a loving and chaste kiss atop the blushing Iphigenia's head, if not for anything else than to incite some flinching reaction from Myrrine as she came rushing in, shooing them away like they were pesky seagulls.

It took a while for Perseus to finally make it out of the crowds of busybodies, making his way to the home of the chief, perched up on a hill, a bright, white and purple cape, flowing in the wind.

Just as he had gotten to the parts of the town with wider streets, he spotted his uncle at the top of the hill just outside his white house, standing with his college of assistants. They seemed to be deeply engrossed in some plans that one of his helpers had presented to him. Although Polydectes was younger than Dictys, he looked much larger, a masculine frame that complemented the respect and importance that he invoked. It was for this and with encouragement from his brother that he accepted the office of Chieftain of Seriphos. So far, he was doing a pretty good job.

"Uncle!" Perseus called out to him.

"Ah, Perseus, dear boy. Have you come to help us out and relieve some of my associates of their burdens a bit?"

"Sorry, uncle," Perseus apologised sincerely. "I promise I'll help out soon but there is a matter that I do need to discuss with you."

"Is it of importance?"

Perseus bobbed his head seriously. He didn't have Nestor to back him up and his uncle was often times fonder of the larger Nestor than Perseus himself; understandably so. Nestor, son of Nico had the makings of a leader, much like Polydectes, putting to shame the naysayers that called him nothing more than a brainless brute. If it counted for much, Nestor even had Perseus' vote. Polydectes would always listen to Nestor.

"Father and I were out by the old temple ruins by Hydrea Island. Among the sunken buildings we came across a fury—a fury from the Underworld. It was not summoned here. It was just…hanging around, grazing."

Suddenly, every man before him matched his serious attitude. Phidias, an older official that helped Polydectes as loremaster, groaned at the news and looked to the chief. "This is a terrible omen, my lords. A fury without a purpose? Dark omens indeed."

Polydectes regarded him for a moment then asked Perseus if there were more out there.

The young and troubled Perseus shrugged. "I didn't see any others, but I do suspect whatever this creature was doing, seemed almost as though she was nesting."

"I did not know furies could reproduce," Polydectes reposted, rubbing his beard habitually.

The boy shrugged. "Neither did I."

"Furies are demons of the Underworld…not some common animal of the mortal world. The cycle of life should not apply to them." It had the loremaster scratching his scruffy beard disconcerted.

The chief sighed, stroking his well-kempt beard habitually. "Okay then, once the other fishermen come back, I'll have to send some people off to check on that. Maybe send word to our trading partners and find a safe work-around. Good work, nephew. Tell my brother not to worry about it for now. I know he'd be very worked up about this. Once Nestor comes back up, I might ask you and he to take a small ship out to check."

Perseus nodded and bowed to both he and the elder Phidias.

Before he turned to leave, Polydectes stopped him for a quick request which he assured wouldn't take too much of his time. "Clymene was supposed to have come in for work this morning and I still haven't seen her. Could you please find that lazy sister of yours and remind her that your mother worked really hard to get her this position and it is an important one."

"Will do, uncle." Again, Perseus bowed dutifully and ran off, though not back toward Chora. Indeed, he knew exactly where her dear sister and apprentice to the Chief was, and made for the small mountain behind the town— where one would find at the peak the Temple Complex of the Holy Pantheon.

—O—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a redo of that first chapter from before. It just felt a little too unnatural to me so I wanted to rewrite it and demonstrate or at least introduce a quieter, peaceful island town setting.