Chapter 2: The journey back home

The journey back home to Surumajinyvka took around six days of travelling. On his way back Veko took all kinds of transportation methods that he could come up with.

He started this journey back home with walking. The nature that surrounded him was peaceful, the scenery beautiful and calming beyond measure. There was only one slight problem. Walking, as Veko realized about five minutes in, is boring as heck. So, he did what any (reasonably) reasonable fourteen-year-old demigod would do: He thought of a plan on how to alleviate his boredom and traverse his path even faster. It didn't even take him that long to come up with, well, calling it an idea might be very generous, but it was kind of an idea.

So, it came to be that Veko opened his backpack, and with a determined, yet slightly crazed glint in his eye, pulled out his trusty skis. He knew that was probably (obviously) a stupid idea, yet he couldn't quite resist the temptation of skiing down a mountain in the summer.

Despite the heat of the sun beating down on him, he eagerly strapped on his skis and set off on his journey down the grassy slope.

At first, his plan went surprisingly well, as he smoothly navigated down the mountain, feeling the rush of adrenaline with each turn and jump. However, as he ventured further downwards, the terrain became more treacherous and challenging. With each passing meter, Veko had to work harder to keep himself upright and avoid face planting onto the unforgiving ground. The grass became more and more pockmarked with stones and tiny rocks, which Veko had to expertly maneuver around.

Thankfully, all the children in Surumajinyvka had been learning how to ski since a young age, and so he was able to maintain some level of grace, balance, and skill on his skis.

Veko couldn't help but notice and feel the stark contrast between gliding effortlessly on snow during winter and the unpredictable, slippery terrain of grass in summer. The lack of traction and constant shifting of the surface only added to both the difficulty of the endeavor and the adrenaline rush, making each turn and jump equally exhilarating, terrifying, and rewarding.

After hours of tumbling, falling, and rolling down the mountainside - with only the occasional tree or rock to break his fall, and much to Atesh's amusement, who took great delight in his escapades - Veko finally arrived at the base of the mountain. Despite the physical toll, his spirit was lifted high with the pure joy and thrill of conquering the unpredictable landscape.

After finishing this escapade, Veko searched for the next road and followed it to the next small town. From there he took numerous busses, trains, trams, bicycles, scooters, and trains again, until he finally arrived at his desired location: the northern outskirts of the city of Lviv.

He would have probably been even faster if a particularity intelligent Mavka, an equally alluring and murderous Slavic monster, hadn't almost succeed in luring him into a dark alley with the promise of "fun times" (Embarrassingly enough, it took Veko nearly 20 minutes to understand she wanted to slit his throat while banging him, and not to play Mario Party together). Luckily Veko had shaken off her the trance she'd tried to put him under quickly enough to stab her with his trusty dagger.

Another incident involved a trio of, impish demons, Drekavacs, which had tried to ambush him on the train from Ternopil back to Lviv. Atesh's ability to breathe fire had more than proven its worth then.

Now, one might wonder why Veko was on a train from Ternopil to Lviv. Now, this was all thanks to his ancient nemesis, dyslexia, which had come back to bite him in the ass yet again! At least it wasn't as bad as last time, where he had accidentally taken a train to Siberia instead of Iberia.

And due to Veko not being able to properly read the text on the ticket machine or the boards displaying the departure of trains, he ended up on a train that wasn't heading north to the direction of Lviv, but instead towards Ternopil in the east, which ended up costing him even more time again. Something which Atesh found to be very amusing, if Veko interpreted his snicker-like trills correctly.

"Yeah, yeah keep laughing, Mr. Blue Chicken", he grumbled.

Dyslexia really was annoying. It wasn't that he couldn't read, but the letters just flew all over the place when he did try to read anything that wasn't ancient Cyrillic.

And while he, and other Slavic demigods, were capable of reading modern Cyrillic letters well enough, other Alphabets like the Latin, Greek or, gods forbid, the Norse ones were just pure lexical torture for basically any Slavic demigod.

And so, after having left the train towards Ternopil, and taking the next one towards Lviv, as well as subsequently hijacking a car (Veko secretly thanked his GTA 4 skills for that one) he reached his destination. He parked the car somewhere on a road, deciding that he could walk the remaining few kilometers. Plus, driving a car through bushes and shrubbery was a pain. Or at least, that what he was told by …, one of his fellow demigods. A quick look on his watch told him it was 13 o'clock, which was made even more clear by the sun that was glaring down at him. Seemed like Dazbog was in a great mood today.

Hidden under a thick layer of the Veil, the mystical force that separated the mortal and divine world since time immemorial, the gates of Veko's hometown, Surumajinyvka, proudly stood before him. Veko couldn't help but smile and tear up a bit at the look of his home, and all the memories it brought with it.

Surumajinyvka, a bustling town of demigods, legacies, and other peaceful magical beings, boasted a sizable population of just over 14,000 residents- a considerable number by European demigod standards, but not by intercontinental ones. In geography class he had learned there were some cities in India or China with populations that surpassed half a million!

In Europe, it fell just behind Veradon, located in southern Germany and home to roughly 25,000, and Rasaka in Norway with a population of 18,000. Veradon served as a haven for German demigods while Rasaka was a hub for the Norse.

Standing before a gate of his beloved hometown, the one he hadn't been to for nearly one year, brought up a lot of memories. The hours he and his friends spent playing football, training with their weapons, sitting in school and learning about different plants, weapons, methods of orientation, other pantheons, and their gods, and so much more.

But also, when his mother had read bedtime stories for him and his siblings, when they had still been young.

And alive.

As Veko passed through the nearest gate, he found himself in a small office. It was decorated simple and modest, and suddenly he remembered that these Checkpoints existed, where he had to provide a method of identification. Behind a glass wall sat a young woman at a desk. She had the bored look of an underpaid intern to her and was sipping a glass of water. When Veko entered and turned to face her, she looked up at him and her already bored expression fell even further.

"Papers, please" she droned in a flat and bored voice. Veko, familiar with the process, pulled out his ID-Card and his Passport.

Veko's ID-Card was a simple, sleek white card with his personal information neatly printed in bold black Cyrillic letters. A small photo of Veko adorned the top corner, though he couldn't help but cringe at how unflattering the photo was - he always thought he looked like he was having diarrhea in the picture. He brushed it off, reminding himself that appearances didn't matter when it came to official documents. At least, not truly. After all, it was just a piece of plastic and data, not a reflection of who he truly was.

The passport was a deep, rich red, its cover adorned with crisp white text and bold blue accents. On the front in the center, an intricate black wheel stood out against the background, its eight arms extending like spokes on a bicycle wheel.

This symbol, which some may confuse for a swastika, was known as the Kolovrat - a powerful symbol of the Slavic peoples and Pantheon.

This emblem could be found on all official documents, proudly displayed on the blue-white-red Pan-Slavic flag and incorporated into various aspects of Slavic culture. It represented strength, unity and heritage in the eyes of its peoples.

Veko handed both of his documents to the woman. She took them without much interest and quickly flipped through them. Her eyes scanned over his name and background information before muttering it silently to herself, her eyes would occasionally wander to his face, comparing it to the pictures on the passport and the ID-Card. "So, apparently you're Vjekoslav Anatoly Volodymyr Fedychenko, son of Veles, born on August 9th," she said.

She turned to him again and started asking some questions:

"For how long do you plan on taking up residence in this area?"

"Probably around two to three days," Veko answered with a shrug.

"You got any weapons on you?"

"A dagger, a trident and a sword," he replied while gesturing to the trident on his back, the sword on his lower back and the dagger on his hip.

"Any other pets besides the bird?" She prodded further, while looking at Atesh, who looked slightly offended at being called a mere pet.

"No, just my loyal phoenix," Veko responded, a hint of pride lacing his words as he stroked the fiery feathers of his companion. He wanted to make it clear that this magnificent creature was more than just a mere pet to him.

With a final glance at Veko and Atesh, she stamped his papers and handed them back to him, fixing him with a stern and suspicious look.

"Don't cause trouble, boy". She jerked her head to the side. "Now, off you go"

"Damn, who put a stick up her ass this morning?" Veko thought as he walked through a short corridor, and out into the town for the first time in a year.

Veko couldn't help but smile brightly as a warm feeling coursed through his body.

The Slavic city was bustling with activity, just the way he remembered it. People thronged the streets, their conversations a cacophony of dozens different languages, impossible to understand them all. The street signs were written in the ancient Cyrillic alphabet. Merchants sold their wares from open stalls, offering everything from intricate necklaces adorned with various coat of arms, to traditional Slavic delicacies such as Borscht, Rakija, Pierogi and Zenica Ćevapčići.

Veko breathed in the familiar scent of grilled meats and spices, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

Wanting to bask in his nostalgia for a bit, Veko decided to wander around the market area. He weaved in and out of the crowd, admiring the various trinkets, goods and trades on display. There were swords, helmets, axes, and other combat equipment forged by master smiths, enchanted to never dull or break; amulets imbued with the protection or the power of one of the six elements, and even chant smiths who carved runes into your belongings for a, more or less reasonable, price. Veko couldn't help but overhear snatches of conversations in Ukrainian, but also in Belarusian, Polish and the occasional Russian, Croatian or Serbian. It brought an even bigger smile to his face.

He was back.

He was home.

Not for long though, it would seem.

Next up:
Chapter 3: Surumajinyvka