Perseus
Perseus was born in a pasture. Delivered by no midwife, by no doctor, born by his mother in the middle of a pasture, where the horses were kept. Along the hay and wheat his father helped his mother through the traumatic pain.
He grew up in a small community, where everyone had a job. Only a hundred bodies inhabited the village, with half the amount of buildings. Houses made of wood, with roofs of straw. Dirt roads connected the buildings. There was one smith, and one mine. But what a plentiful mine, more bronze, iron, and gold than they knew what to do with.
They were a small, rich village, but their lives were hard. By the time Perseus was ten summers, he already had the build of a hunter. Proficient with a bow, as well as a knife and ax, he was trained in the art of hunting by the resident hunter and gatherer, Amelia. Amelia was old, and no one was certain that she would last another summer. Perseus needed to be ready for when the time came.
And come it did. Per everyone's thoughts, Amelia died that winter, and Perseus was now the hunter and gatherer for the group. Armed with a bow and the knowledge of what plants were edible and which were poisonous, he went into the woods.
Snow crunched under his shoes. His shoes darkened as water seeped into them, freezing his feet. He pulled his fur coat tighter around him. At least, as well as he could with his bow drawn. Snow lightly fell as he traveled deep into the woods. He didn't know what he was looking for. Bears would be hibernating, most plants would be dead, and anything worth killing wasn't going to be around.
He cursed to himself. He had practically doomed his village to starvation. They had a poor hunting summer, and now they barely had enough meat to last till spring. If Amelia hadn't been so caught up teaching him the trade, she would've been able to hunt more food. He narrowed his eyes. He would find food. He had to.
He looked around, scanning the white landscape. He peered past the leafless trees. Nothing around. He continued to walk, his footsteps punctuated by the crunching snow. The wind blew against his back, breaking against his fur coat.
The sound of crunching snow came from his left. He froze and listened. The wind howled, but underneath it, the sound of crunching snow continued. He turned in that direction. In his eyesight, a white bunny, almost invisible against the snow, hopped into view. Perseus slowly, as not to disturb the bunny, unshouldered his bow. He drew an arrow and knocked it.
As he took aim at the rabbit, he muttered a quick prayer to the Twin Archers. He let the arrow fly. The arrow hit its mark. He muttered a quick thanks to them as well. He rushed forward and picked up the rabbit. He pulled his arrow out of the animal and studied his work. The kill was sloppy, and a rabbit wasn't much in terms of food, but it was something. He clipped it to his belt.
Feeling better now that he had found something, he climbed the nearest tree he could. Being ten summers old, he wasn't exactly skilled at scaling a large tree such as this, but he managed. He crawled out onto a branch, hugging it to his chest as he shimmied across. Slowly, he got to his feet as he crouched down. He kept one hand on the trunk of the tree to help him keep balance. If he fell, it would hurt badly, even with the thick layer of snow on the ground.
He waited in that tree, listening to the wind, hoping for the sound of more crunching snow. But as more time passed without any sounds besides the wind, his hope dwindled. He couldn't bring back just a rabbit. That would be like adding a drop to a dried up lake. It's nothing. Not even how he would have to sacrifice some to the twins as thanks for their guidance.
He ended up sitting down, his back to the trunk, and falling asleep due to the lack of anything happening. He awoke to the sound of crunchy snow. Very loud crunching snow. He felt excitement rush through his veins. This could be just the thing he needed to help his village. To redeem his failure.
He sat up and looked in the direction of the sound. Blocked by the trunk of the tree, he hopped to another branch to get a look at what was causing the beautiful sound. He looked down and had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still asleep. Below him, making tracks in the snow as it walked, was a large moose. The amount of meat on the animal would be enough to help his village make it through the winter.
Perseus silently unslung his bow and drew an arrow. He took aim and let go of the arrow. The arrow soared through the air, and embedded itself though the moose's head, impaling its brain. It fell into the snow, with a crunch of snow.
Perseus, excitedly, climbed down the tree. He reached the ground and ran over to the dead moose. Red blood stained the white snow. He looked in awe down at his kill. This could feed his village for a good while.
He grasped the moose's antlers and tried to drag it, but it wouldn't budge. He grunted as he tried again, but to no avail. He sighed and let go. He would have to get some people's help from the village.
He walked through the woods towards his community with his chest puffed up and his chin held high. Not even the cold wind could break his mood. He approached the first person he saw, Kleon, the village blacksmith, who was sitting outside of his shop, possibly waiting for a blade to cool so he could finish it.
"Kleon!" Perseus yelled as he approached.
The blacksmith smiled as he saw the young boy coming. "Young Perseus!" He greeted. "What can I do for you?"
"I need your help. I killed a moose out in the forest, but I'm not strong enough to carry it."
Kleon's bushy eyebrows rose an entire inch. "A moose, you say?"
Perseus nodded.
"Well, let's go get it, then."
Perseus took Kleon out into the woods, following his footsteps in the snow that he had made on his way back to the village. Sure enough, true to Perseus's words, at the end of the footstep trail, there laid a dead moose, an arrow in its head.
Kleon looked at the moose with an impressed grin on his face. "Wow, kid." He said, breathless. "C'mon, let's take this back to the village."
Kleon grasped the dead moose by the antlers while Perseus went behind it and started to push. The moose slid against the snow easily. It was slow work, but eventually, they reached the village. They drug the moose to the food tent, where they were storing their food for the winter.
There still wasn't much, but it would help.
LINE BREAK
Even with the moose, the winter was still difficult. Perseus went into the woods everyday to find something to eat, but only ever found small rodents. It was better than nothing.
Nonetheless, they made it through the winter, and the summer days were soon upon them. Perseus was now eleven summers old, and had grown into his role as the hunter of the village. He went into the woods everyday and came back with something every time.
It was during one day in the woods this summer that he met the Hunters.
He was walking through the forest, his feet bare so he could feel the grass beneath him. He had his bow slung over his shoulder. He hadn't seen a living animal in about an hour, and now he was just walking around, bored, hoping to find something, anything, that he could bring back.
As he passed another tree, he saw a flash of silver. Curious, he walked towards it. There was nothing. Just more forest, more plants, more grass, more dirt. Nothing silver. 'Probably just an illusion.' He thought.
He went back to wandering aimlessly. And wandered for a while. Until he saw a doe kneeling to drink from a stream. Grinning to himself, he unslung his bow from over his shoulder and nocked an arrow. He took aim and pulled back on the drawstring.
Just as he was about to let the arrow fly, a bear jumped out of the foliage and tackled the doe. Blood spewed from the doe as the bear's claws and jaws ripped into the doe's flesh. Perseus took a step back in shock, and doing so, accidently shot the arrow. This was the one time he cursed his amazing aim.
The bear turned its head rapidly and stared down Perseus.
"Shit." He muttered. He pulled out another arrow as the bear started to run towards him. He shot the arrow, but it didn't do anything to faze the bear. He dropped his bow on the ground and pulled the ax off his belt. The bear leaped at him. He rolled to the side and swung his ax. He missed by an inch.
Deciding to go with his instincts, he turned heel and ran. His self preservation was kicking in now. The bear ran after him. He followed the river downstream, since he knew it emptied out into a small pond. He could dive into the water and escape the bear.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurred. Could bears swim? How long could they hold their breath? How long could he? Could he outlast the bear? Shit. But he had no other plan, he had to hope this one worked.
He had almost reached the pond when the bear leaped at him again. It landed on him and knocked him to the ground. He dropped his ax as he fell, the weapon falling to the ground next to him. The bear pinned him down and one of the bear's claws dug itself into his back.
Perseus howled in pain as the claws were drug down his back, ripping his tunic and his flesh. He reached around for the ax. He felt his hand graze the sharp edge. He reached a bit lower and grasped the wooden handle. He swung the ax behind his back, as best he could. He must've gotten lucky, because the weight on his back was alleviated. He jumped to his feet and spun around.
The bear was circling him. He brandished his ax, which was now covered in blood. One of the bear's legs was bleeding, although not as much as Perseus hoped it would be. The bear leaped at him again. This time, Perseus swung the ax and smacked the bear in the face with the flat of the blade. The bear wasn't too affected, but it was enough to make it veer to the right of Perseus.
Perseus brought the ax down and slammed it into the bear's forehead. He ripped it free and brought it down again. Blood was flying, landing on his face, his hands, his tunic, his ax, everywhere. Once the bear's head was bloodied, and it was no longer moving, he stood up straight and let out a breath.
He turned around and looked at the pond. He dropped to his knees and started to wash his hands and his ax. When he was done he turned around. He examined the bear. It looked like a big one, and would probably have to weigh a couple hundred pounds, at least.
Just as he was contemplating how he was going to carry it, he thought he heard the sound of splashing water. Next thing he knew, the back of his head exploded with pain and he was lying on the ground.
The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious was a woman, naked as the day she was born, looming over him.
He could barely mutter 'What the' before he fell asleep.
He woke up bound to a pole. He was sitting with his legs crossed, and his arms were tied behind his back to a pole with rope. His back stinged, and moving made it worse, as the pole rubbed against his torn up back. He tested the rope bonds, and found them to be very craftily made.
He looked around. He seemed to be in a campsite of some kind. Silver tents surrounded him, and he was presumably tied to a supporting pole of one. In the middle of the camp was a dead firepit surrounded by logs.
"He wakes." A voice came from the largest tent as a young girl walked over to him. She was older than him, maybe by a summer or two. She had long auburn hair, skin as pale as snow, and eyes that glowed yellow, almost exactly like the moon. She wore a hunting garb made of silver fabric. Despite being young, she commanded respect and emanated confidence. He didn't know how she knew he was awake since she was in the tent.
Beside her was an older girl, maybe four summers older, he wasn't sure. She had bronze skin and black hair. Her eyes were the color of obsidian. Her own clothes matched the child's next to her. "I don't know why you're letting him live, m'lady." She said. "You've punished boys for less than what he has done."
"I told you, Zoë. I will get his side. I don't believe this matter to be as simple as you're making it out to be."
They stopped before Perseus. He shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. The small girl spoke first. "Speak. What were you doing near our pond while we bathed?"
Perseus eyed her weirdly. "That's not your pond. No one has ownership of it."
The girl's yellow eyes flashed dangerously. "All of nature's beauty is mine, boy. Answer the question."
"I was fighting a bear. And I didn't leave unharmed." He grimaced as his back rubbed against the pole. He wished he could say it was intentional, but it wasn't.
"And after that?"
"I was knocked out?"
"Did you watch us bathe?"
"I didn't even see you. I didn't see anyone. You know, you must have a pretty high opinion of yourself to think that everyone who even happens to walk by wants to watch you bathe."
"Smite him, m'lady." The older girl said.
The younger girl just raised her hand to silence her. "Do you know who I am, boy?"
Perseus shook his head. "I assumed you were just the crazy cult leader who lives in the woods."
The girl shook her head. "There is a cult out in these woods. It's why we're here, actually. You see, young Perseus, we are hunters, and I am Artemis." She gestured to herself.
Perseus narrowed his eyes. "As in the Goddess."
She merely nodded.
He rolled his eyes. "Sure. And I'm Hades."
The ground rumbled underneath him.
"I can send you to him, if you'd like."
Perseus didn't say anything.
"That's what I thought. Now, I will escort you back to your village, and you'll go on with your life, and we'll put this behind us."
"You're letting me go?" Perseus asked. While it was the best outcome for him, it was a little shocking to him that it was actually going to happen.
"Why? Should I not? Were you lying to me?"
Perseus quickly shook his head. "Just surprised is all. All the stories have you turning men into animals, or changing them into girls."
"Do you want me to do that?" Artemis raised an eyebrow.
"No! No."
Artemis cut the bonds on Perseus's hands. He stood up and rubbed his wrists where the skin was red and raw.
The walk back to Perseus's village was quiet and awkward. He was confused on what you do when you have a man hating Goddess walking you back to your home after her minions kidnapped you? Do you strike up a conversation, ask about the weather? He decided to just keep his mouth shut.
At least until he noticed the dark smoke in the sky ahead. Black clouds billowed, rising from the ground. The scent of smoke filled the air. Perseus rushed through the trees, Artemis following closely behind. When they exited the woods and saw the village, Perseus froze in shock.
The village, the only place he had ever known, his home, had been burned to the ground. Ash and burned wood stood where there were once houses. Burned corpses littered the ground. A couple of bodies were held above ground, supported by the spears they were skewered by.
Perseus slowly walked forward and shifted through the carnage. The first body he came across was Kleon. The man's face was unrecognizable, the only identifying feature was the fact that his body was large. The only person large enough to be a match was Kleon.
Numerous bodies laid in the ruins, many burned beyond recognition. The ones that weren't, well, maybe it was better if they were. Because Perseus recognized every single one. From Audrey, the woman who sold produce, to young Nivik, who was barely two winters old. Most of the women in the village were either naked or had ripped clothing. It wasn't hard to imagine what happened to them.
At the end of the village was Perseus's house. The walls still stood up, but the fire had taken the roof. He entered the house and was met with a terrifying sight. His father bound, lying by the wall, his head split open with the ax still in his head. His mother was worse. She too was bound, bent over the table, her clothes ripped off. Blood coated her back, a wound just above her heart. Perseus instantly turned around and threw up.
He exited the house, and was met with Artemis. She was scanning the remains with a stoic face. She turned to his house and studied it. She walked closer and ran her hand over the wood by the doorway. "Was this always here?" She asked.
Perseus looked closer. "No." He answered curtly. Engraved next to the doorway was an image of three wavy lines that curled at one end, like a drawing of the wind.
Artemis nodded. "This is the work of a cult. The very one I'm hunting. This is their fault."
Perseus looked at her. "Yours too."
Artemis took a step back in shock. Her eyes narrowed and her brows knit together. "What did you say?"
"It's your fault too. You and your hunters!"
"If it wasn't for me and my hunters, you'd be dead too."
"EXACTLY! I wouldn't be here alive, while everyone I know and ever cared about is dead! If you hadn't detained me, I would have been here! I could have helped and died with honor!"
"Watch yourself, boy. I vouched for you once, but your disrespect isn't going to do any favors."
Perseus glared at the Goddess.
'He's in shock. Let it go.' Artemis thought, trying to not turn the boy into an animal. "I will be taking my leave now." She said swiftly, before walking away and disappearing into the woods, leaving Perseus alone in the ruins of his home.
The first thing Perseus did was give everyone a proper burial. He didn't have any drachmas to give the dead—he checked the remains, there were none, every coin was taken. But he buried them. Each one got a grave. It took all day and night, but he got it done.
And then he left. At eleven summers old, he was homeless, a drifter.
LINE BREAK
For six summers, Perseus wandered Greece. He grew into a handsome young man, one who drew admirers everywhere he went. Not that he noticed. The tragedy of his village's genocide had turned his heart to stone. He lived day to day, surviving. He traveled from city to city, living in the wilderness, doing odd jobs that no one else wanted to do. But that was all a front for his actual goal. Revenge.
He had spent the six summers tracking down the cult. It was hard to find members at first, but after the first few, he figured out a strategy. Roll into a city, find someone preaching about the glory of their god, invite them to a tavern for a drink, then look for a mark of the cult. Usually a pendant on a necklace, or a bracelet, or even a tattoo. But the mark was always the same, three wavy lines curled in the end.
Which is how he found himself making out with Nikandros in a dimly lit tavern. Perseus felt along Nikandros' chest but found that he wasn't wearing a necklace. He pulled away and looked into his flings' eyes, breathing heavily. "Wanna take this somewhere else?" he asked.
Nikandros smiled before nodding.
They left. Nikandros knew that Perseus was a drifter, and didn't have a place, so he took him back to his place. Perseus slammed Nikandos into the wall as he attacked his lips ferociously. His hands found the bottom of his tunic and separated from him to take it off. He took a second to look over his fling. His eyes settled on Nikandros's left pec, where three dark, wavy lines were tattooed.
"That's nice." Perseus said. "What does it mean?"
Nikandros paused. "It's uh, it's something that all my friends and I got."
"Oh?" Perseus asked, feigning interest. His right hand wandered behind him and grasped the knife tucked into his trousers. He swiftly unsheathed it and brought it up to Nikandros' throat. "Don't bullshit me." He growled.
Nikandros's eyes widened. "Whoa, dude. What's happening?"
"Six years ago. That sign was engraved into a village that had been burned. What is the group it belongs to?"
"I don't know! I don't know!" Nikandros said, tears welling up in his eyes.
"You're wearing their sign! How do you not know?!" Perseus yelled.
"I don't know!"
Perseus growled before punching Nikandros in the face. He fell to the ground. Perseus turned away and started to walk through the house. He rummaged through a desk and looked over countless papers. A lot of it was random nonsense. There was one paper that caught his interest. It was a summons for Nikandros from someone named, "The Wind". A codename. The sign was stamped at the bottom.
"Motherfucker!" A shout came from behind him. Perseus whirled around to see Nikandros coming at him. Perseus drew his knife and thrust it into Nikandros's chest. The cultist crumpled to the ground and died. He pulled the knife out and wiped it on the inside of his tunic. He sheathed it, took the summons, and searched the rest of the house, finding a large sum of drachmas in a chest upstairs. He walked out of the house, taking the back exit. Hopefully no one would discover the body until he was long gone.
LINE BREAK
Perseus had always had weird dreams. Visions of the future that he would forget until they had come to pass, scenes of the past that he recognized from major points in history. This dream, this dream was neither.
In his dream, he was walking in the woods, the full moon shining down on him. The forest was silent, a foreboding sign. He walked for a couple of minutes before he came across a cave. Torches lit the sides of the entrance. He walked into the cave and followed it down. Whispers began to creep into his ears. He finally entered a large chamber, where steps on the far side of the room led up to an altar. Painted on the wall was the symbol he knew and hated.
There was one other person in the room. They kneeled before the altar, worshiping. Suddenly, the worshiper stopped and stood up. They turned around and looked at Perseus. Their face was covered by a mask, and their body by robes. The mask was blue, with dark lenses over the eyes. A permanent grin was plastered on the mask. The robes were black, almost blending into the dark environment of the cave. If it weren't for the occasional torch, he would've been unseen.
Suddenly, Perseus felt himself get violently pulled backwards. He flew through the cave and was spit back out far into the forest. The sound of wolves howling filled the air. Perseus turned around quickly, but saw nothing in the trees.
He turned again, and saw a woman sitting on a tree branch, polishing a silver bow. It had been years since he last saw her, but she looked the same as she did six summers ago. She was younger than him now. Artemis turned to him. She hopped down and landed silently on the ground. She slung the bow over her back.
"Hello, Perseus." She said calmly. She stuck her hands in her pockets. She looked at ease.
"Artemis?" He asked, wondering why she was in his dream.
"Surprised to see me?"
He nodded. "We didn't exactly end off on the best terms last time." He said. "I'm sorry, by the way." He added.
Artemis shrugged. "Forgive and forget. That's not why I'm here. At least, not that specific part."
"Why are you here?"
"The cult. I know you're tracking them down." She raised her hand to silent the question that he was about to ask. "And I know that you just came across some information on the leader of the cult."
"The Wind?"
She nodded. "I want to warn you about him. The cult too. These guys you've been tracking down the past six summers, they're the foot shoulders. The further up the chain of command you go, the harder they are to kill."
"I'll be careful."
She rolled her eyes. "That's not all. You have to be smart about how you deal with this. If you kill the leader, they'll just elect another from the Magisters. Like a hydra."
"So what, I kill them first, then The Wind?"
"That would work, but it would also alert The Wind to your goals. Attacking higher ups is more risky. Your best bet? Take them all out at once."
"How would I do that?"
"They're having a meeting where every member of the cult is required to attend. A ritual of some kind. Sneak in, and rid the world of them."
"How do you know about this?"
Artemis smiled predatorily. "I have an insider informant."
"Espionage? I didn't take you for the type."
She shrugged, looking pleased with herself. "It's just another kind of hunting, in a way." Her face sobered up. "But if you're going to do that, you're going to need more than a knife."
"I'll buy some supplies. Should be able to get some cheap ones at a market in Thebes."
Artemis shook her head. "Your chances of surviving are as good as the weapons you wield. No, I have a better idea. There's a blacksmith in Thebes. He can forge you a weapon worthy of the Gods!" Her voice took on a point of pride. "He will help you."
Perseus had a strange feeling in his gut. "Okay." He said, not wanting to argue with a goddess.
"Then wake. You know your path now."
LINE BREAK
Perseus awoke in the tavern's upstairs room. He gathered his belongings and swiftly exited the building. The moon still shone in the sky, though it was nearing the horizon. He walked over to the stables, where the horses were sleeping. He chose a black stallion and shook its mane. It woke up.
"C'mon boy. We gotta go."
The horse nickered. Perseus climbed on top of the horse and grasped the reins. Did he feel bad about stealing some random person's horse? A little, but his need was great. He had a cult to deal with.
He rode until the sun was high in the sky. Thebes wasn't terribly far from the small town he had found Nikandros in. He still rode the horse as fast as it could go. Which was really fast. The horse's muscles expanded and contracted underneath him, and he could feel the power the beast had. However, his ass was starting to hurt from the lack of a saddle.
He arrived in Thebes at sundown. He let the horse slow down as he looked for the blacksmith. As he rode through the town, he wondered if there were multiple blacksmiths, and if so, which one was he supposed to find. One of the locals should know.
He hopped off his horse and approached a woman who was carrying a basket of wheat, probably on her way to the market. "Excuse me, ma'am?"
She turned to him. "Yes?"
"I was wondering if you knew where the best blacksmith in Thebes was?"
"There's only one blacksmith, he's over there. He's expensive though."
"That's fine. He's the only blacksmith here, in this large of a city?"
"There used to be more, maybe five or so. But slowly, all but Mykonos died. He's the only one left now."
"They died, how?"
She shrugged. "They all got ill and someone found them dead in the morning."
"Plague?"
The woman shook her head. "Can't be. Other People would be getting sick, but no one else is."
"Strange. Poison, maybe?"
"I don't know if anyone would want to hurt them though. They were good people. Why are you so curious?"
"Just doesn't seem right to me, that's all. Thank you for your help."
Perseus turned away from the woman and walked in the direction where she had indicated the blacksmith was. He found the smith easily. Mykonos was a short dude, with rippling muscles. He was bald with a face chiseled from stone. He hammered a piece of glowing red metal, before plunging it into the bucket of water next to him.
Perseus approached the man casually.
"How can I help you?" The smith asked, placing his hammer on the anvil and crossing his arms. His voice was deep and gravelly, like he hadn't spoken all day.
"I was told you can make weapons worthy of the Gods themselves."
The man chuckled. "I can do that. It's gonna cost you."
"I can pay."
"Money up front."
Perseus reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch of drachmas he. He tossed the pouch at Mykonos, who caught it. He pulled on the drawstrings and poured the drachma into his other palm. He nodded and poured the coins back into the pouch. "That'll do. Wait here."
Mykonos walked into his workshop and entered a door in the back, disappearing. Perseus decided to take a look around. He noticed a lot of weapons on a wall above a workbench. As he admired the workmanship on the blades, he noticed a piece of paper hidden behind one of the knives. He reached out and gingerly took it out from behind the weapon. He almost dropped the letter out of shock before steeling his resolve.
On the front of the folded paper was the symbol of the cult. The three wavy lines curled at the end.
He opened the paper and found a letter written inside. Addressed to someone nicknamed 'The Isle'. Skimming the letter, it named Mykonos directly, giving him orders to attend the same meeting Artemis had told him about. Was this why Artemis had sent him here? To eliminate the cult member before the meeting?
Perseus stuffed the letter in his pocket as he heard Mykonos coming back. He turned towards the doorway. Mykonos entered the workshop, a silver ax in his hand. He handed it toi Perseus, who carefully took it.
It was a beautiful ax. A silver blade capped with a gemstone, a moonstone. The handle was two feet long, curved, and made of sturdy wood. In his hands, it seemed to hum with energy. Runic patterns seemed to be engraved into the silver ax head. In the middle seemed to be the shape of the moon. "It's... magnificent." Perseus said. The silver was polished so well he could see his face in the reflection.
Mykonos smiled with pride. "One of my best pieces. Wanna test it out? I have a few dummies out back."
"Sure."
Mykonos beckoned for Perseus to follow him. The smith took him behind the shop where a couple of things were set up. One was a target on a plank of wood, another was a straw dummy, and the last one was a tree stump with a pile of wood next to it. Perseus assumed he used the area for testing his creations.
"You know how to throw an ax?" Mykonos asked.
Perseus shook his head.
Mykonos held his hand out. Perseus handed the ax over. The blacksmith demonstrated how to throw it, with both hands as well as one. Both times, the ax found itself buried in the center of the target. When Mykonos handed Perseus the ax back, he stepped out of the way.
Perseus grasped the ax and tried the two handed approach first. The ax soared through the air and landed to the right of the center, in the third ring.
"Take as long as you want." Mykonos said. "I'll be out front."
Hours passed as Perseus threw that ax. The sun setting, and sweat covered Perseus's body. He had taken his tunic off in an effort to stay cool. He took in a deep breath as he decided this would be the last time he would throw the ax before trying to kill Mykonos. He threw the ax, both hands, and the blade slammed into the bullseye with a THUNK.
Perseus walked over to the target. The wood had splintered across the entire target, an effect of the constant abuse he had put it under. He pulled the ax out and examined the edge. Still just as sharp as when he received it.
He hung the ax off his belt and walked out front. Mykonos was gone, his forge cool. Perseus narrowed his eyes as he examined the shop. He crept forward, his hand hovering above the ax. He entered the door Mykonos had gone in earlier. On the other side was a bedroom.
A bed was in the corner, with a chest at the footboard. Other than that, the room was bare. Mykonos was knelt down, his hands on his bed, his head bowed. He was praying.
"-Keep watch over me. May my Lord favor me. May he bless me to be like him, silent and unseen."
Perseus raised the ax. As he did. He heard a voice, like a sound in the wind, whispering. 'Kill, kill, kill.' It repeated like a mantra.
Mykonos turned around, as best he could do while on his knees. "What t-" he exclaimed, but was cut off by the ax in his face.
Perseus pulled the ax out as Mykonos fell face forward, dead. Blood began to pool beneath the corpse, staining the stone floor.
He fled before someone could find the dead blacksmith. He hopped on his horse and fled in a random direction. It wouldn't be until later that he realized that he felt a calling, like something pulling him somewhere.
As Artemis pulled her chariot across the sky, Perseus decided to make camp. He was in the middle of a forest, so he gathered some sticks and started a fire. He watched the flames flicker, casting shadows on the surrounding trees. He pulled out the letter he found in Mykonos' shop.
He read it over and over again. The location of the meeting was vague, but he at least had a general idea. Mount Parnassus. He also had the date and time it was happening. He put the note back in his pocket and looked up at the night sky. He knew the stars formed constellations, but he didn't know which was which. He knew one of them was Orion, one was Heracles, one was a scorpion he couldn't remember the name of, but he didn't know where they were.
Eventually, after a lot of stargazing, he found himself in the realm of Morpheus.
LINE BREAK
When Perseus set out for Mount Parnassus, he found that the pulling he had felt the night before seemed to be pulling him in that direction. With the distance he had put between himself and Thebes the previous night, he had only about an hour of ride time until he reached the Mountain.
The mountain soon loomed in front of him, the pull getting stronger every second. He pushed his horse as hard as he could. His horse followed the beaten path, the sound of his hooves clopping against the packed dirt never leaving Perseus's ears. The sun beat down on them as sweat stuck his tunic to his back.
As he got closer to the southern slope, he entered a forest. He hopped off of his horse and patted him on the nose. "Be free." He muttered.
The horse turned and ran away, disappearing quickly. Perseus sighed and faced the forest. He could feel the pull wanting to bring him deep into the woods. He tapped his fingers against the ax head and walked into the forest.
The forest was dense. Sunlight shone through the leaves, but barely. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees. As he walked deeper into the forest, the pull was getting even stronger. It became hard to go any other direction other than straight towards whatever it was that was calling him.
It wasn't long before he found a cave, which the pull beckoned him to enter. The entrance was dark despite the two torches on either side. He crept forward and entered the cave. The cave felt familiar. As he followed it down, it dawned on him. It was the cave from his dream.
He reached the large chamber and felt the pull instantly vanish. He had felt the pull so long, he had forgotten what it was like to walk around without it. The room looked exactly like his dream. The steps at the far end of the chamber, leading up to an altar. The symbol of the cult painted on the wall behind it.
Whispers started to reach Perseus's ears. The words were indistinct. It was like he could feel something brushing against his brain.
The room was empty. The meeting wasn't for another day at sundown, so it was to be expected. He walked back out of the cave. The pull didn't come back. Maybe because he had found the location? He didn't know why. He didn't know why the ax had a pull in the first place. He didn't know a lot of things.
He climbed the nearest tree and sat down on a thick branch, leaning against the trunk. Might as well get comfortable, he had a while to wait.
Tomorrow at sundown, it would end, with either his death or the destruction of the cult, it would end.
LINE BREAK
The waiting was killing him. He sat on that same branch, the ax in his lap as he ran his fingers over the handle. He had been watching the entrance of the cave all day, and nothing had happened.
Perseus was starting to get antsy when the ax started to hum. It was different from the pull he felt the day before. This was a vibration that he could physically see was happening. He picked up the ax and stood up.
As he did so, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled and found Artemis standing on the branch behind him. The ax seemed to hum even more violently in his hand. There was a slight pull that he felt towards her.
"Artemis." It had been so long since he had seen her, but he never forgot her. It was hard to forget a goddess.
"Perseus. What are you doing here?"
Perseus looked at her quizzically. "I'm doing what you asked, stopping the meeting."
"I never asked that of you."
"What? Yes you did. You came to me in a dream and told me about the meeting. You told me to get this ax." He held it up.
Artemis's eyes widened. She leaned backwards. She probably would've taken a step back if there was enough room on the branch too. "Perseus. I didn't tell you about this meeting, and I definitely didn't guide you to that ax."
Perseus rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."
Artemis narrowed her eyes. "I see you haven't gained any more respect."
"Never found the time. I've been tracking this cult for years now."
"So have I."
"So you have."
A beat passed between them, a lull in conversation, before Perseus decided to fill the empty silence. "So I guess we take them on together, then?"
"Would better your chance of success." Artemis said.
"You mean, our?"
"No."
Perseus scoffed. "Right, the Goddess doesn't need help." He muttered.
The sun sunk beneath the horizon hours later. Artemis had set herself up on a tree opposite of Perseus. When her head rose quickly, Perseus grasped the handle of his ax. She held up a finger, and soon, he could hear what she did.
The sound of chanting filled the still night. The lack of wind to erase the distant words. He started to see light dancing in the distance, shining through the leaves, easy to see in the now vanished sun.
He got up, now squatting on the branch, his ax in hand, and watched as the cultists came into view. They were in a parade formation, with every two holding a torch. They each wore a black robe and blue mask with a permanent grin etched into it. In the middle of the parade, four cultists carried a large silver sarcophagus. Etched into the lid was the mark of the cult—three wavy lines curled on one end. All in all, there must have been forty of them. The parade disappeared into the cave.
Perseus looked up at Artemis. She nodded her head in the direction of the cave and started to climb down her tree, graceful as a doe. He was less graceful, but who wouldn't be compared to the literal Goddess of Hunting. We'll give him an A for effort.
They quietly snuck into the cave. Once again, the ax was humming in his hand. The whispers were starting to come back too. He pressed on, following Artemis. They came to the large room at the end of the cave.
The sarcophagus had been placed on the altar. One of the cultists stood next to it, talking, but Perseus couldn't make out the words. Probably the leader—The Wind. The rest of the cult faced him, listening.
Artemis turned and faced him. "We split up and take down as many as we-"
"HEY!" A voice interrupted. Perseus whirled around to see a cultist standing next to him. As soon as he turned, Artemis had already plunged a knife into his chest. She held the cultist and laid him gently on the floor, not making a sound.
She turned back to him. "Split up, kill them all."
Perseus nodded. He pulled out his ax and crept along the right side of the cavern. The ax buzzed in his hand, however, less so than earlier. It seemed to buzz more when he was closer to Artemis, strange. The whispers were louder than ever, and he could hear them clearly. "Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill." One word, over and over and over again.
He could make out the Cult Leader's words now. "—This humble virgin. May her blood awaken you and lead us into a new age!" He was saying.
He reached another cultist and slammed the ax in his back. However, he lacked Artemis's skill in assassination, and the cultist fell forward with a large thud. He froze, praying that no one would notice. His prayers went unanswered. The Leader fell silent as many cultists whirled around and looked at him.
Cover having been blown, he yelled and jumped at the nearest cultist, throwing his ax at him. The blade found itself in the chest of the cultist before Perseus ran up and pulled it out. The silver blade now stained red, he started hacking at any cultist that came closer.
"Kill, kill, kill, kill."
Most of them seemed to have daggers and he found himself in a deadly dance. He would block one knife, counter another, cut a cultist, and repeat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Artemis. She was fighting like a madwoman, in a blur of blades, her auburn hair a streak of color in a silver blur.
A cry of pain rang throughout the chamber. Perseus looked at the source, a young man who had been stabbed on the altar. The Wind stood next to him, a bloodied blade in his hand, arms outstretched.
Perseus began carving a path towards the altar. He swung his ax at a cultist, striking him in the chest. He pulled the weapon out and pirouetted, aiming for the neck of another. He succeeded, decapitating him. His blade was covered in blood. He was covered in blood.
He saw an opportunity. Grasping the handle of his ax with both hands, he threw it at the Leader. He watched as the ax tumbled through the air, head chasing handle, and found itself buried in the back of the Leader.
A victory, but ultimately one that left him vulnerable. A cultist stabbed at him with his knife. He blocked with his hand. The knife drove itself through his hand, through the bone. He punched the cultist, knocking his mask off. Grasping his own wrist, he forced the knife in his hand to stab the man in the face. He pulled the knife out of his hand as the man dropped to the floor dead.
Grasping the knife with his uninjured hand, his dominant hand luckily, he blocked another Cultist's knife and countered by stabbing him under the mask in his jaw. He withdrew it and pushed the cultist back. He crashed into another one. The second cultist was pinned under his dead friend, allowing Percy to stab him in one of the eye holes in the mask.
"Kill, kill, kill, kill."
With most of the cultists dead, lying on the floor, Perseus ran up to the altar and grabbed the ax from the Wind's back. He flipped the man over and took his mask off. He raised the knife.
The Wind coughed. "You can't win. Lelantos... he will... We have contin—" he was cut odd as Persues stabbed him in the neck.
He stood up and turned around. Artemis was stabbing the last cultist. She was breathing heavily. As was he. The adrenaline in his veins was fading away. He walked down the stairs slowly as he tried to catch his breath.
He walked over to Artemis. He let out a breath. "We did it."
She nodded. "Yeah."
The ax in his hand began to buzz, stronger than it ever had before.
"Kill, kill, kill, kill."
Suddenly, as if his arm had been possessed, he started to swing the ax at Artemis.
"Perseus?!" She yelled as she deflected with her hunting knife.
"I don't know! I'm not doing this!"
He continued to swing at the Goddess, but she kept dodging. 'Stop!', he kept yelling at his arm, but it continued its assault.
Finally, Artemis countered a blow and brought her other knife up, slicing Perseus's hand clean off. The ax clattered to the ground, his hand still grasping it.
Perseus yelled in pain as he grasped his wrist. Blood spurted from his wrist. He moaned in pain before a lightheaded feeling overcame him. He promptly fainted, falling into Artemis, who dropped her knives to catch him.
LINE BREAK
Perseus woke up to see silver canvas above him. As feeling returned to his body, he registered soft fabric covering him. He went to brush his hair from his eyes, but nothing happened. He looked down at his hand to see that he didn't have one. He had a stump wrapped in white bandages.
Memories started to flood back to him. The massacre, attacking Artemis, her lopping his hand off...
He idly wondered where he was. He looked at his other hand, the one that had been stabbed. It also had a bandage wrapped around it. He lifted the cover of the bed and swung his legs out on the side. He stood up and took a shaky step forward. He tried to steady himself on the table next to the bed but since he had no hand, he fell and smacked his head on the table.
"Fuck." He muttered. He stood up again and, using his left hand this time, slowly walked out of what he recognized as a tent. As he walked out of the tent flap, he used his stump to shield his eyes from the Sun.
Looking around, he recognized where he was. The silver tents, the bonfire, the women in silver glaring at him. He was in the Hunter's camp.
"You're finally up." A voice said from his side.
He turned to see Artemis, sharpening a quiver of arrows. She didn't look up at him, remaining focused on the arrows.
"How long was I out?"
"Half a moon."
His eyes widened. "That long?"
She nodded. "Didn't know if you were going to wake up. I had my brother check on you a couple of times."
Her brother? Oh, Apollo.
"Thanks?"
She nodded. "I'd hate to admit it, but I'd hate to see you die."
"I'd hate to die."
A beat passed.
"Mind if I sit next to you?" he asked.
She shrugged.
He sat down next to her and stared at his missing hand.
"How is it?" she asked.
"It's strange. It's like I still feel it. It's going to take a lot of getting used to."
"I'm sure you'll get used to it."
"Hopefully."
"So, what now? Now that the cult is dealt with, what are you going to do?"
Perseus pursed his lips. For so long, six summers he had been driven by vengeance. Now, he had done what he set out to do, and while he felt proud, he also felt empty. "I don't know." He admitted. "What about you?"
"What I always do. Hunt, drive the moon, deliver children." She shrugged.
"Is that what being a God is? Just doing the same things over and over?"
"Forever is a long time, Perseus. You're bound to do everything at some point, and bound to do it again at another. It's why we envy mortals. You only have a limited time, and it makes everything you do have value."
"I guess."
She stood up. "The girl's are starting to get irritated with your presence. You better leave before they cut your time short."
She led him out of the camp. Perseus faced the woods and took a deep breath. He took a step further before turning. "What happened to the ax?"
"I have it. For safekeeping."
He nodded.
"Thank you for your help, Lady Artemis." He bowed his head. When he looked back up, he saw she had a small smile on her face.
"Just Artemis, Perseus. I wish you well." And with that she turned and left.
I'd love to say that Perseus lived a long and happy life after this, but in truth, all he knew was violence. He stayed a drifter, a mercenary, doing other people's bidding if they paid him. He was killed on a job, tasked with taking out a group of bandits. Only twenty summers old when a sword was plunged into his back, through his heart.
LINE BREAK
When Perseus woke up, he saw darkness. He was in a cave. On the other side of the cavern was a river, with a wooden barge floating on top of the black water. A dark-skinned man stood by it, wearing a black hooded robe. Other people roamed around the cavern, aimless.
He looked down at himself. He wore black robes, just like everyone strangest part, his right hand was back. He clenched and stretched it, testing it. It responded to every command. He smiled and started to laugh.
He approached the man by the boat. "Charon, I presume?"
He looked impressed. "You don't seem to be surprised." He sniffed the air. "You don't smell like a demigod though. Interesting."
"I know the Gods are real. I met and fought alongside one."
"Oh really?" Charon said, his voice taking on a tone of disinterest.
"Yeah."
"Do you have drachma?"
Perseus realized he didn't have pockets. He didn't have a coin on him. "No."
"Then you'll have to wait a hundred years. Them's the rules."
Perseus nodded.
A hundred years passed by and it sucked. He was bored the entire time and no one wanted to talk. They couldn't make any sounds except for a few groans and clicks. The strange thing was that when one of them would talk to Charon, the Ferryman would respond like he understood the strange sounds. He probably did.
When Charon finally came up to him, announcing the hundred years was up, he almost jumped for joy. He followed the ferryman and boarded the small boat. He sat down on the bench and watched as the God picked up a paddle and began to ferry them down the River Styx.
Charon brought him to a black, rocky shore. Walls ran off into the distance, disappearing into the mist. There was a gate in front of him. Above the gate was Ceberus's three heads, each one looking in a different direction. One looked bored, one looked hungry, and one looked sad. A line of souls stretched out from inside the gates, passing underneath Cerberus, and almost reaching the shore.
"Thank you." Perseus muttered, before stepping off of the boat and getting in line.
If he thought the hundred years in the cave was long, then he must have spent forever in line. Slowly, the line moves forward. He looked around so many times he had the landscape burned into his memory. When he got to Cerberus, he reached out and felt the dog's fur. It was, surprisingly, very soft. He expected it to be soft or something, but no. Soft as a feather, softer even.
Now inside the gates, the full sprawl of the Underworld was in view. In the distance rose a black castle, hidden in fog, its silhouette the only indication it was there. Before the castle, offset to the right, lay bountiful hills with homes. People roamed around, though they were too far to see what they were doing. A milky white river ran through the center, flowing around a small island in the middle. Surrounding the hills was a silver fence that had a majestic quality to it. It was like a small village, no bigger than the size of his home village, before it was razed to the ground. Elysium.
To the left was a volcanic landscape, where people screamed in pain as toenails were ripped from their feet, as they were forced to lie on cactus plants, or as they were forced to listen to the sound of horrible music. It was considerably larger than the Elysium fields, about the size of a large city. A wicked looking black metal fence kept the prisoners from escaping. The fields of Punishment.
In front of the two was a large plain of nothing, where thousands of souls just stood, or wandered aimlessly. A tree or two were scattered across the plain, bearing jewels and pomegranates. It was the largest of the three, and hard to find a living world equivalent. It seemed to be as expansive as the space between city-states. The fields of Asphodel.
Between the three regions, paths of stone separated them, leading up to the castle. Above them, the rocky ceiling seemed to disappear into the darkness. Stalactites hung down, threatening to fall and crush them all.
He finally got to the front of the line, only two eternities later. "NEXT!" Called a voice. He stepped through the door and found himself facing a golden table. Behind it sat three people. He didn't know them, but he knew what they were. The judges. They would look at his life and decide where he belonged to be.
"Hmm. Lot's of murder. Lot's of it." The center one said.
"But he killed murderers. And worse." the one on the right said.
"If you kill a murderer, the number of murderers in the world stays the same." The one on the left replied.
"He killed more than just one." The one on the right retorted.
"Doesn't put him in the right."
The center one raised his hand. "The people he killed had plans that would lead to the deaths of thousands, maybe millions. Plans that would have had profound effects on nature. By killing them, he stopped those plans. And as such, he saved more lives than he took. I vote this makes him a hero, by the loosest definition."
"I agree." The one on the right chimed in.
The one on the left crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I guess I'm outvoted then."
The middle judge slammed a gavel. "Perseus of Glidenos, you have achieved elysium, enjoy your eternity."
Perseus bowed and walked out of the room, and followed the path to Elysium. He followed the path and entered the gates. He took a deep breath.
The air smelled like flowers.
LINE BREAK
Eternity was a long time. One would grow bored eventually. Perseus sat on the grass next to the River Lethe, watching the white river flow by. He had considered rebirth many times. The thought kind of scared him. He would forget everything, his journey, his village, his parents. Could he trust himself to live a good life again? He didn't want to be reborn, only to end up in Asphodel of the Fields of Punishment when he died again.
He plucked a couple of blades of grass and rolled them through his fingers. He grabbed a nearby flower, he didn't know what kind it was, so he called it yellow. In his afterlife, he realized just how much he didn't know. If it wasn't a weapon or violence, he probably wouldn't have a clue about it. He wondered if it was just who he was or a product of his life.
He picked the last petal off the flower, ending his game of 'should he, shouldn't he'. Landing on should, he reached forward and cupped his hands before dipping them in the river. He pulled them out and brought the liquid to his lips.
He was scared. Maybe he would be evil in his next life. Maybe he wouldn't make Elysium again. But maybe his life would be better. Maybe he would know more than just violence and death. Maybe he'd find someone he loved and settle down. But he wouldn't know if he didn't try.
He felt the liquid flow over his tongue. It tasted like warm milk. As he swallowed, he felt his eyelids get heavy.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell back, asleep.
And when he woke, he wouldn't be Perseus anymore.