Chapter 3: Building a Sanctuary

The day after their initial arrival inside the Seolo Forest, Hera and Achilles worked tirelessly to establish a more permanent camp. The first order of business was to construct a shelter, a wooden hut that would offer protection from the elements and serve as their home for the foreseeable future.

Gathering fallen branches and sturdy vines, they set about building the framework of their new abode. With Hera's guidance, Achilles eagerly took to the task, his small hands working with surprising dexterity as he helped lash the branches together with the vines.

"This is going to be our home for now, Achilles," Hera said, a note of excitement in her voice as they worked. "We'll finally have a dry and warm place to call our own, again." The Goddess was getting a little tired of constantly sleeping outside.

Achilles nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with determination. "I can't wait, Mommy! I'll help you build the best hut ever!"

Despite their best efforts, progress was slow, hindered by the lack of experience and essentially no tools at their disposal. The first attempt at building the walls ended in disappointment as a slight breeze sent their makeshift structure tumbling to the ground.

Hera sighed in frustration, wiping the sweat from her brow as she surveyed the damage. "It seems we have a bit more work to do, Achilles."

Undaunted by their initial setback, they persevered, learning from their mistakes and refining their techniques with each subsequent attempt. Day by day, the framework of their hut took shape, its walls rising higher and its roof taking on a more solid structure.

In the midst of their construction efforts, they also faced the pressing issue of food scarcity. With their meagre supplies dwindling, Hera and Achilles embarked on daily foraging trips into the surrounding forest, scouring the undergrowth for edible plants and small game to sustain them. But only fruits and nuts every day were not enough. Doubly so for a growing boy.

For now, hunting was not something Hera was looking forward to; that took too much effort, time, and does not have a guaranteed chance of success. Especially as Hera herself did not really ever hunt. Thankfully there is a stream nearby.

After making the decision that a break from their construction efforts would be needed, Hera had a plan. "Come Achilles. Let's go to the water." Coming to a stop in front of the stream, Hera glanced down at the shimmering surface, a glint of determination filling her eyes. Gripping her spear with newfound resolve, she waded into the shallows, her movements fluid and purposeful. With each step, the cool water lapped at her ankles, a soothing rhythm that echoed the steady beat of her heart.

Beside her, Achilles followed her into the water and watched with wide-eyed wonder, his curiosity piqued by his mother's newfound endeavour. "What are you doing, Mommy?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

Hera turned to him with a warm smile, her gaze reflecting the dancing light of the sun-kissed stream. "We're going to catch some fish, Achilles," she replied, her tone filled with determination. "It's something I've seen the girls do when I travelled in the past, and I thought we could give it a try."

Achilles's eyes widened in anticipation, his youthful enthusiasm bubbling over. "Can I help, Mommy? Please?"

Hera chuckled softly, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, Achilles," she said, her voice laced with tenderness. "I'll show you how it's done."

With that, Hera demonstrated the art of fishing with a spear, her movements precise and deliberate. She explained the importance of patience and timing, urging Achilles to remain still and focused as they waited for their prey to reveal itself.

For a while, they stood together in companionable silence, the only sound the gentle rush of the stream and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead. Hera's gaze remained fixed on the water; her senses attuned to the subtle movements beneath the surface.

Suddenly, a flash of silver caught her eye, and with lightning speed, she thrust her spear into the water, her aim true and unwavering. With a triumphant cry, she withdrew her catch from the stream, a plump freshwater trout glistening in the sunlight.

Achilles cheered in delight; his eyes wide with wonder as he gazed upon their prize. "Wow, Mommy, you caught a fish!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Hera grinned, a sense of satisfaction coursing through her veins. "We caught a fish, Achilles," she corrected gently, her heart swelling with pride. "And now, it's your turn."

With patient guidance, Hera showed Achilles how to wield the relatively big spear due to his size, teaching him the art of fishing with skill and precision. They laughed and joked as they practiced their technique, their bond growing ever stronger with each shared moment of joy and camaraderie.

As the sun started its descent towards the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the forest canopy, Hera decided it was time to head back towards the camp and make dinner.

But as they reached the shallows near the bank, Achilles's playful nature got the best of him. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed Hera, giggling with delight as droplets sparkled in the air.

Hera laughed, surprised by the sudden turn of events. "Oh, you little rascal!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with playful indignation. "You're asking for it now!"

With a playful grin, she retaliated, scooping up water of her own and flicking it at Achilles, their laughter mingling with the gentle rush of the stream as they engaged in a spirited water fight.

For a moment, Hera forgot about their troubles and worries, lost in the simple joy of shared laughter and playful antics. In that fleeting moment, she wasn't a goddess and she felt like she hadn't just been forced out of her city. No, instead she's a mother playing with her son, kindred spirits, united by love and boundless affection.

After being thoroughly soaked and exhausted, they made their way back to camp. The memory of their impromptu water fight lingered in the air like a whispered promise of more adventures to come. And as the stars began to twinkle in the velvety sky above, Hera and Achilles settled down by the crackling fire. The smell of roasted fish permeated the air, making two stomachs groan. With their spirits filled with light they embraced the warmth and wonder of their shared journey.

As the days turned into a week, their efforts finally bore fruit. Nestled within a tranquil clearing between two towering trees, Hera and Achilles' camp stood as a testament to their perseverance and resilience. Surrounded by the verdant embrace of the Seolo Forest, their newly constructed wooden hut took pride of place at the centre of the clearing.

The hut itself was a marvel of primitive craftsmanship, its walls fashioned from sturdy branches intertwined with supple vines. After the week of hard labour, the walls had grown taller and more solid, rising to form a protective barrier against the elements. A thatched roof of woven leaves and grasses crowned the structure, its earthy hues blending seamlessly with the natural beauty of the forest.

A small entrance flanked by two slender tree trunks invited visitors into the cozy interior of the hut. Not that they wanted or even expected anyone to find them. Inside, the space was surprisingly spacious, with enough room to accommodate Hera and Achilles comfortably. A soft bedroll, fashioned from woven grasses and piled high with fragrant pine needles, occupied one corner of the hut, providing a welcome respite from the rigors of their nomadic existence.

Opposite the sleeping area, a hearth fashioned from smooth river stones served as the focal point of the hut, its crackling flames casting a warm glow across the interior.

Outside the hut, a small wooden table fashioned from a fallen tree stood beneath the shade of a towering oak trees, its coarse surface getting smoother by countless meals shared in the company of Hera and Achilles. Nearby, a ring of smooth river rocks encircled a fire pit, where the remnants of previous fires lay smouldering amidst a bed of ash.

One thing that missed, but something that would be implemented in the coming weeks, was, a perimeter of sharpened stakes surrounding their camp against any threats that might stumble upon them. A precautionary measure. Something that was hopefully not needed. But Hera figured it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

As Hera and Achilles surveyed their handiwork, a sense of pride washed over them. Their camp was more than just a shelter; it was a sanctuary, a place of warmth and safety amidst the vast expanse of the Seolo Forest.

With a contented sigh, Hera turned to Achilles, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Well, what do you think, Achilles? Our home isn't the grandest, but it's ours."

Achilles beamed with delight, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's perfect, Mommy," he replied, his voice filled with awe. "The best home in the whole forest!"

The wooden hut stood tall and proud amidst the forest, its walls sturdy and its roof weatherproofed against the elements. Inside, a simple bedroll offered a semblance of comfort, a welcome respite from the rigors of their temporary nomadic existence.

Standing before their new home, Hera felt a swell of pride and satisfaction wash over her. This wasn't just a shelter; it was a sanctuary, a place where they could find solace and safety amidst the chaos of the world outside.

As the daylight waned once more, they settled down for the night, Achilles nestled close to Hera, his small hand clutching hers tightly. "Mommy, do you think our hut is the best one in the whole forest?"

Hera smiled, brushing a lock of hair from Achilles' forehead. "I think it's perfect, Achilles. And it's ours. That's all that matters." A minute later, Achilles looked up at his mother with wide eyes, a silent request for another story. Every night, once the food was gone, it was story time. Sometimes about Heroes and legends from ancient times. Sometimes about the Gods and their escapades up in heaven. Sometimes even about some less morally righteous individuals and their accomplishments. And this day would not be different.

"Hmm, let me think," Hera said, her gaze drifting towards the dancing flames. "Ah, I have just the tale for you."

She began to recount the story of Theseus, the legendary hero of a small village, and his daring adventure into a mysterious cave to confront a fearsome beast.

"Long ago," Hera began, her voice soft yet captivating, "there lived a young prince named Theseus, who was destined for greatness. He hailed from a humble village nestled in the shadow of a towering mountain, where tales of a monstrous creature lurking in a nearby cave struck fear into the hearts of the villagers."

Achilles listened with rapt attention as Hera wove the story, describing how Theseus volunteered to face the beast and rid his village of its terrifying presence.

Hera spoke of Theseus's courage and determination, how he ventured into the depths of the cave with nothing but a sword and a torch to guide him. The twisting passages and eerie darkness of the cave seemed like an endless labyrinth, testing Theseus's resolve at every turn.

As the story unfolded, Hera painted a vivid picture of Theseus's harrowing journey, his encounter with the monstrous creature, and the epic battle that ensued.

Finally, Theseus emerged victorious, having slain the beast and saved his village from its terror. He became a hero to his people, his name celebrated in songs and stories for generations to come.

As the story came to an end, Hera looked down at Achilles, who gazed up at her with awe in his eyes.

"What happened to Theseus, Mommy?" Achilles asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Hera smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Theseus returned to his village a hero, and his bravery and courage inspired others to face their own challenges with strength and determination."

That night, Achilles his young imagination was filled with visions of heroic battles and daring adventures.

The next day dawned with a soft glow filtering through the canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. As Hera sat down to begin drafting a training schedule for Achilles, she found herself grappling with doubts and uncertainties about her decision to disband the Hera Familia.

Thoughts swirled through her mind like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Maybe she had made a mistake. Maybe they didn't need to disband after all. Perhaps they could have found a way to escape together, to flee to safety as a group. They could have collectively protected, raised, and trained Achilles, sharing the burden and the joy of parenthood.

But then reality crashed over her like a wave, washing away the fantasies and what-ifs. She remembered the injuries sustained by 8 of her former Familia members during the failed quest, some were missing limbs or gravely wounded. From the remaining members, two of them would most likely not have stayed either way. Alfia's devotion to her sick sister was absolute and unwavering. If she needed to choose between the entire Familia or Meteria? She would've chosen Meteria before Hera, or anyone for that matter, could convince her otherwise.

That left only three members who might have been available to join them, but Hera knew that they were now occupied with protecting and aiding the injured. So far, they were still alive, the connection to the Falna was reassuring her. With that connection to her former Familia members, Hera understood that her decision to disband was ultimately the best course of action for everyone involved.

Despite her lingering doubts, Hera took solace in the knowledge that they still carried her blessing, her Falna, which remained a symbol of their bond. Perhaps in the future, they would be reunited, their paths converging once more. But for now, Hera had to focus on the present, on ensuring Achilles's safety and preparing him for any possible challenges that lay ahead.

With a resolve and confidence that allowed her gather and raise the strongest Familia in the whole world, Hera turned her attention back to drafting the training schedule. Hera made a promise to herself that day. No more doubting herself. No more what-ifs and could've beens. The whole situation had made her mind and feelings go haywire. Something that is simply unacceptable.

As the days unfolded into weeks, Hera dedicated herself wholeheartedly to Achilles's education and training. Each morning, before the sun fully graced the horizon, they commenced their routine. The cool, dewy air echoed with the rustle of leaves as they embarked on their journey of learning and growth.

Stretching became their ritual, a gentle preamble to the day's activities. Hera guided Achilles through a series of movements, his small form mimicking her graceful gestures. "Stretch your arms out wide, Achilles," she instructed, her voice a soothing melody amidst the morning symphony of nature. "Feel the muscles lengthen and loosen. Good, now reach up to the sky, as high as you can go."

Achilles followed her lead, his determination evident in each deliberate movement. With a proud smile, Hera encouraged him, her heart swelling with maternal pride. They moved seamlessly into footwork drills, Hera demonstrating agility and finesse as Achilles absorbed her teachings like a sponge.

"Watch my feet, Achilles," Hera urged, her voice a steady beacon of guidance. "See how I shift my weight from side to side? That's it, now you try."

With focused determination, Achilles mirrored his mother's steps, his tiny feet weaving across the forest floor with newfound grace. Despite the occasional stumble, Hera offered words of encouragement, her unwavering support buoying Achilles's confidence.

As the sun ascended higher in the sky, they transitioned to combat training, using a wooden stick as a makeshift spear. Hera imparted the fundamentals of combat, teaching Achilles to hold the weapon with poise and strike with precision. "Keep your grip firm, Achilles," she instructed, her gaze fixed on her son's earnest face. "And remember to focus on your target. Now where should you aim to strike your opponents?"

"The soft bits," Achilles answered as he thrust forwards, imagining a monster he had seen in their reading book. A rather detailed drawing of a goblin.

"And those are?" Hera questioned further as she adjusted his stance.

"The eyes." he thrust two times a little higher. "The neck." a little lower this time. "The belly." He thrust a little downwards. "And the no-no bits. But that one only works on humans."

"Good. But remember, if there is an opportunity, strike a little upwards when striking the belly. That will damage the important internal organs more." Hera watched as determination etched into Achilles' features as he took the lesson to heart. He honed his skills, all the while envisioning himself as a mighty warrior defending his loved one.

Some might say Hera have gone a little overboard with the training. But Achilles had a desire to be the strongest and to protect his mother. Hera wanted her boy to survive and always come out on top. For that to happen, all available resources and methods would be used. To not do so, would only hurt both of them. Afterall they only had each other.

Their training sessions wove seamlessly into the fabric of their daily lives, interspersed with moments of rest and nourishment. In the quiet interludes, Hera assumed the role of Achilles's teacher, imparting knowledge gleaned from "The Book of Knowledge," the book in which all the information was gathered from about a millennium. As this was their only readable book, Achilles learned how to read from it at the same time as, they delved into the annals of history, literature, and biology, their conversations spanning the breadth of human understanding.

"Did you know, Achilles, that the streams and rivers are like the lifeblood of the forest?" Hera mused, her voice suffused with reverence. "They provide water for all the plants and animals, ensuring that life thrives here."

Achilles listened with wide-eyed wonder, his gaze fixed on the nearby stream as it meandered through the verdant landscape. "Really, Mommy? The water is that important?"

Hera nodded, a tender smile gracing her lips. "Yes, Achilles," she affirmed, her voice imbued with maternal wisdom. "Without water, the forest would wither and die. It's a precious resource that we must always respect and protect."

Their discussions continued, weaving tales of wonder and curiosity into the tapestry of their shared experiences. Achilles's thirst for knowledge was insatiable, his questions a testament to his boundless curiosity. And like all children, magic was a topic he enjoyed.

"And what about the monsters that inhabit the forest, Mommy?" Achilles inquired, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Are they magical beings?"

Hera chuckled softly, her gaze lingering on her son's eager face. "Some may seem magical, Achilles," she replied, her tone tinged with warmth. "But they are simply creatures of this world, each with their own story to tell."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the forest canopy, Hera and Achilles retreated to their campsite. Around the flickering flames of the campfire, they shared stories and laughter, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. In the embrace of the wilderness, they found solace and companionship, their journey together a testament to the enduring power of love and resilience.