by Ravek Hunter
Slowly he removed the claws from his chest. It took a long time, causing him torturous pain. Fortunately, he had unintentionally cauterized his wounds and stopped the bleeding when he severed the Harpyia’s legs with his flaming hands. That’s probably the only reason he was still living, he thought bitterly. When he was finally free of the claws, Akakios cauterized his wounds again and then stumbled to his feet to look around.
The indistinguishable bodies of the two Harpyia that died by his flaming bolts were still where he remembered they fell. Beyond them, in the darkness, were the remains of his horse, its body rigid and contorted in its final pose. The blood all around it had long since dried, ruining the grass where it spattered. There was no sign of the third Harpyia, although Akakios was sure it would not live long without its only means of defense and feeding.
He almost felt sorry for it. Almost.
Akakios picked up his staff and carefully walked over to his poor horse. He removed his tattered packs that were still partially strapped to its body. They were shredded nearly as bad as the animal that carried them, and most of what was inside was also damaged and useless. He salvaged what he could in one small bag that suffered only mild damage and then said a short prayer over the body of his faithful mount.
The ache of his injuries was almost unbearable, and he needed to rest and tend to them while he still had strength. A few decades ago, he could have sustained an injury such as this and more, healed himself, and been on his way not much worse for the wear. These days the healing took longer, and the healing magic granted by his god would leave him exhausted. For the first time since he departed Sesklo, Akakios wondered if he wasn’t just some old fool trying to relive his youth.
Refusing to stay among the carnage longer than he had to, Akakios cast the few healing spells he knew on himself and worked his way back to the overlook where he had sat napping earlier. The little healing that he could provide for himself would be enough for him to sleep after he had consumed the last of the artos, a loaf of wheat bread, he stashed in a pocket of his robes after lunch. Then he curled up at the base of a large boulder for protection from the wind and covered himself with a bloodstained blanket that he was able to recover.
So many decades had passed since his last expedition into the unknown. He thought about those days, the companions found and lost, the thrill of mystery, triumph over adversity, and countless close calls with death. This felt nothing like that. He just felt miserable and cold. Perhaps he would wax nostalgic about this adventure one day as well. Memories had a funny way of leaving out the hardships. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and he didn’t fight the urge to sleep.
Anesidora appeared in his dreams again.
She was frightened and pleading for Akakios to hurry to her. She was at a temple high in the mountains, windy as before, but her surroundings were darker and more foreboding. There was a sense of danger and fear, and when he woke with the daylight, the palpable emotions conjured in the dream were still with him.
The rest and healing had been enough to give him the energy to continue his search for the grove of oaks. He walked along the ridge, carefully avoiding the ravine where he encountered the Harpyia the day before, and made his way farther up the slope to a higher elevation. The day was bright, but the higher he climbed, the colder it became, and the windchill was biting. Pine was the dominant tree as far as he could see, and Akakios began to doubt that he would find a grove of oak this high in the mountains. He even considered descending again closer to the deciduous tree line. Instead, Akakios decided to stay at the same approximate elevation for a while longer and move in a roughly northeastern direction. He skirted the edges of clearings in case any more Harpyia were nearby; the last thing he wanted was to be caught out in the open if he were spotted. More worrisome than that, where there were Harpyia, he was sure there was something much worse in this wilderness.
By late afternoon he was on another ridgeline surveying the treetops when he spied a stand of oaks a little below and to the east of his position. Thrill and relief flooded through him. Finally, a tangible sign, Akakios thought. They had to be the ones; they were the only oaks he had seen since he entered the mountain forest.
“Kronos, don’t torture me with the sight of these trees,” Akakios prayed aloud. “Grant that this grove is the one I have been searching for.”
After resting a little while, Akakios started in the direction of the oak trees. The grove was not large, and it would only take him a short time to walk from one end to the other if he didn’t find a clearing. To his pleasure, there was minimal underbrush, and the ground was level, making walking more comfortable than on the jagged ophiolite on the ridge.
It wasn’t long before Akakios found a narrow clearing about a stone’s throw wide and maybe twice as long. The clearing was illuminated by the sun, on its final descent to the horizon, casting shadows on the carpet of bright green grass dotted by random mushroom rings. A flash of movement on the far southern end of the clearing attracted his attention, and what he saw made him catch his breath in astonishment. A beautiful white steed stood gracefully grazing in the lush green grass. He rubbed his weary eyes to see it more clearly. It was a magnificent white steed, all right . . . with wings.
It was a Pegasos, another creature of fantasy and storybooks. Often the animal was represented in sculpture and relief in Sesklo, but to see one in the flesh was astonishing. If he thought the Hierophant would think him mad before, he was confident of it now.
With a start, he noticed that the Pegasos had a riding harness and immediately became alarmed that there might be an unfriendly rider nearby. Curiously, he saw no one else around. To be safe, he waited and watched the incredible creature for a while before Akakios made a cautious approach. He stayed along the edge of the trees, moving as quietly as he could, trying not to spook the creature. Despite his efforts, somehow the Pegasos was aware that he was there, and it casually watched him as if he were no more a threat than a chipmunk. Akakios was not sure how close he should get to the animal, but he was starting to feel ridiculous trying to sneak up on it while it watched him so passively.
Was this the sign from Metis that the Paein had referenced? He did see her with a Pegasos in his dreams. Gathering his courage, he approached farther. The Pegasos seemed completely unconcerned by his presence or proximity. Most unsettling was the intelligent look in its eyes, far more than any horse he had ever known, it seemed to weigh and measure him with each hesitant step of his advance.
When he was only a few steps away, the Pegasos faced him and performed a sort of bow with its front legs bent and its weight on its knees. Akakios did what he might consider an odd thing any other time in his life and bowed back. The Pegasos replied with a grunt and tossed its head toward its back.
“Do you expect me to climb atop you, fair beast?” Akakios slowly inched forward and gingerly touched the top of its bent neck. The fur was coarse like any other horse’s, and its long white mane just as soft. “Did Metis send you here for me?” The Pegasos repeated the gesture toward its back more insistently the second time. By Kronos, Akakios thought, it really does expect me to mount. Gathering whatever amount of courage he could muster, he dropped his bag and put on his heavy himation before he carefully stepped up and cautiously climbed the winged beast.
Not hesitating a moment, the Pegasos turned and sprinted down the clearing. Akakios, not expecting the sprint and a second too late after adjusting his staff over his shoulder, missed the supporting strap of the riding harness and flipped off the steed’s back. He lay in the soft grass with the wind knocked out of him, and the Pegasos stopped short and returned to where Akakios lay. It stood nickering above him, which, to his embarrassment, Akakios could only interpret as a laugh.
“That wasn’t funny,” Akakios said flatly after recovering his breath enough to stand. The Pegasos simply knelt again for him to mount. After a moment of hesitation, Akakios drew a deep breath and slowly climbed on. “Wait a moment while I get settled, if y
ou don’t mind.” This time, the Pegasos stood and patiently waited for Akakios to get settled before bolting down the clearing.
Akakios kicked the Pegasos in the flanks, indicating he was ready, sending the steed off at a slow trot that increased to a full gallop before it opened its wings and lifted off the ground. Akakios was sure that if the straps on the harness were oranges, he would have inevitably squeezed out every drop of juice. He had experienced many wondrous adventures in his lifetime, but this was the first time he had ever flown, and he wasn’t sure he was going to like it.
The ground rushed away below them as the Pegasos ascended at a steep pitch to gain altitude, and in seconds the trees below looked like toys from a child’s playset. To Akakios great relief, the angle of ascent soon leveled off to a gradual lift. Far above and ahead of them, he could see the highest peaks of the Othrys with the last rays of the sinking sun spread above them like the wings of an enormous butterfly. Akakios had a feeling that was where they were headed. It was nearly nightfall, and at the heights they were climbing, he was glad for his heavy wool himation. The air was becoming colder and the wind sharper as it cut through the gaps in his clothing.
When they were close to the higher peaks, the Pegasos commenced a full ascending spiral upward, taking advantage of the wind currents, undoubtedly heading to the highest peaks of the Othrys. After only a couple of circuits, the darkness and altitude combined to make objects on the ground indistinguishable, and then they entered the clouds. Akakios did his best to quell his rising panic. They were too high, and he could no longer see the ground. He had never been a fan of high places to begin with, and this was the ultimate extreme. To fall from this height, which was his real fear, would leave him an unrecognizable spatter on the ground for animals and insects to lap up.
All sense of altitude dissipated once they burst through the clouds. It was nearly calming. The clouds were so thick that Akakios almost believed he could walk upon them. He was glad for the illusion of the ground so close keeping him from obsessing about how high they really were in the sky.
For the first time in his life, Akakios suddenly felt like he could understand the gods’ perspective of the world below them. If it were a cloudless sky in daylight, everything on the ground would appear so small and insignificant. A city would look much like a colony of ants crawling all over themselves, each one filled with self-importance, as if anything they did would matter. And the sky above them was no less spectacular. The air was clean and clear, with no obstruction or haze to diminish the beauty of the multitudes of the heavens spread out to the edges of eternity. He had never seen the stars so luminous or numerous before. And there were other things. A trail of clouds like the dust from the wheels of a chariot cut a wide swath through the cosmos. There were clouds around some of the distant stars as well and a star that moved slowly and then fast, as if it couldn’t decide.
He was in the province of the gods, and it was humbling.
His gaze fell back to the peaks of the Othrys cutting through the clouds in the distance. Akakios could just see a light coming from a structure built at the pinnacle of the highest mountaintop nearest to them. It had to be the shrine of Metis. Only the gods could have constructed a shrine in such a place. Excitement and anticipation were building inside of him. Anesidora was there waiting for him to save her, and he was determined to overcome whatever he had to face.
Still a distance away, the Pegasos suddenly tensed and huffed aggressively. Akakios was not sure what was happening and looked to where the steed’s attention was focused. Another creature was flying high overhead. It was massive and orbited the airspace above the shrine. Was this the darkness that threatened Anesidora? Something flew near the monster, and fire streamed from its head, consuming its prey before snatching right out of the air with what appeared to be a giant claw and devoured it without slowing. Akakios studied it closely as they drew nearer, not sure what to make of it. Underneath him, the Pegasos snorted and kicked excitedly. It postured confidently in their ascent, and to Akakios’s terror, he realized the Pegasos intended to confront the beast circling above them.
“No, no, no,” Akakios pleaded with the Pegasos. He tried to make it turn by applying pressure with his thighs and pulling at the reigns. The Pegasos ignored him completely.
Akakios was a child of fire, and he had confidence in his abilities. He knew that his god, Kronos, had prepared him well in this regard. However, battling mythical creatures straight out of legend at this insane altitude and mounted on the back of a winged creature he did not control did not appeal to him in the least.
And the thing was huge—easily twice the size of the Pegasos.
He had to accept the fact that there was no way to avoid the creature protecting the shrine if he expected to rescue Anesidora. If he only knew what the Pegasos was planning. What could a Pegasos do to a thing that size, breathing fire and whatnot anyway? Maybe the Pegasos was expecting him to do something. Akakios had to come up with a strategy of how to overcome the monster that didn’t result in sending him plummeting to the earth. He watched it carefully, looking for any weakness he could exploit as they drew closer.
The creature did not react to their approach until they were nearly over the shrine. Once it sighted them, it immediately altered its course to intercept. Akakios still could not see the beast clearly, and he desperately hoped they were out of range of its fiery breath. Inexplicably, the Pegasos continued to fly higher than the shrine, presumably in an attempt to gain a height advantage on the approaching monster. To his surprise, the creature did not pursue and instead returned to circle above the shrine. Whatever controlled it must have set it to the singular task of guarding the shrine . . . or protecting it. Akakios had the strange idea that rather than a liberator, he might be an invader, yet the thought of Anesidora waiting somewhere below drove him on. Whatever happened, he desperately hoped that the Pegasos knew what it was doing, since aerial combat was entirely out of his knowledge or experience.
The Pegasos flew high above the shrine, where the sky was clear and the wind was no more than a breeze. He could see the vastness of the cosmos above him so close he might reach out and scoop up a handful of stars. Akakios labored to breathe at this altitude, and he feared he might lose consciousness if they stayed too long. Casting his gaze around him, he noted that the horizon was visible in every direction, disrupted only by the mountain peaks to the west, and there was something else.
Lights.
Looking more closely, he realized it was not just lights, but beautiful light cascading from large windows. What he earlier thought of as mountain peaks were actually massive walls and towers built upon the highest reaches of the Othrys Mountains. Still too far to make out much detail, he stared in wonder at the revelation that it must be the palace of Kronos. Overwhelmed, rapturous euphoria filled him at the thought of coming this close to his god. For a moment he considered trying to compel the Pegasos to take him there, and then he thought again of Anesidora. He would rescue her, and then the Pegasos would take them to Kronos’s palace, where he would present himself to his deity.
Turning his attention back to the shrine, the details of the beast below resolved more clearly with the backdrop of lights that flickered around the landing in front of the temple. Akakios caught his breath at the sight of it. The beast had a body and head of a lion with a second head, that of a goat, protruding from its back, and a snake for a tail. It was a Chimera. Another creature from legend that none had claimed to see in over a thousand years. The Pegasos purposefully banked downward, gathering speed, and Akakios instantly realized what he must do.
Chapter 11
Ἀτλαντίς
Chasing Ogres
Havacian rushed over and knelt down beside Qel, who was still holding the young elf child. Qel looked up and smiled, and then his attention was drawn to movement in the forest behind his friend. His smile disappeared. Three mounted Elves burst out of the woods, leaped off their horses in a single smooth move, and spra
ng toward them. Havacian only had seconds to react, and to his credit, he managed to conjure a wind barrier that surrounded the two of them and the child just before the charging Elves reached them. Their attackers must have somehow sensed the barrier, and they stopped short of running into it. Qel, still a little slower than Havacian, had a firebolt ready to burst forth from his hands in case the Elves managed to overcome the barrier. The Elves made no move against the barrier and simply stood staring back at them.
Qel thought the Elves look young, two men and a woman, and they were armed with bows and narrow longswords. Only then did Qel notice that their swords were sheathed, and their bows were strapped to their backs. The woman stepped forward, gesturing wildly, and she was joined by the two males in shouting loudly at them through the barrier. Qel could not understand what they were saying with all of them speaking at once, but the expressions on their faces weren’t angry, they seemed more pleading and desperate—especially the woman.
Finally, the eldest male elf quieted the others and calmly turned to them. “This is the child’s mother.” He pointed to the young elf woman.
Immediately Qel understood. “Havacian, drop the barrier.”
“Are you mad? They will tear us apart!”
“Trust me, Havacian. Their only concern is the welfare of this little girl.” Qel was unconsciously stroking the child’s hair, and he could feel her breathing calmly with her face buried in his chest.
Havacian sighed. “I hope you are right about this.” He released the barrier.