“I’ll show you blasphemy!” I screamed at Apollo over the heads of the Hyperboreades. Apollo was still flinging his arrows, his face aglow with red fire, hatred fueling his attack. “Cerberus, the priests!”
The great white hound turned his heads and shot out a wondrous, blooming flower of fire as I dove through the Hyperboreades’ attack, their lanterns banging against my arms and burning my bare skin. I sprinted at Apollo who spun to face me. The fool still held off attacking me; his pause would be his death. He pulled back his bow at last and let loose a shot as I threw Solisinanis as hard as I could at his chest. I twisted at the tearing arrow and jumped, but it clipped my shoulder, sending my leaping flight crashing to the ground. Searing pain burned my bones, and I held the wound while screaming and writhing on the ground.
But my desire to see Apollo dead was greater than any pain could bring, so I forced myself up, biting my lip and drawing blood, the pain burned so deep. Holding my shoulder, I lumbered towards Apollo. He was sputtering, holding his chest, where Solisinanis remained lodged, right in the center, tearing through his armor like a rudder through water. His face was twisted with wretched rage and disbelief. The anger was weak, and his face sagged under the sudden weight of mortality.
“What would you have done had I joined myself to your cause? Speak free and true, do not let your last words be of the dark and belong to the shadow of deceit,” I said through clenched teeth, still holding my wound and shakily standing over his fallen body.
“Cracked you open like an egg and drank your yolk fully. We needed you alive: another Prometheus to torture. My priests and I had the means, but your friends were too much. Cerberus... we thought we had to bring him to prevent one fate from happening, and to make another occur. But Wyrd played her chord once more. And now I leave through a one-way door, shut forever.”
The gleam of his golden skin faded, and his eyes lost their glow. I yanked my axe free and limped towards Cerberus and Columbia, the both of them standing close-by and watching me with worry.
“Where are the Hyperboreades?” I said.
“I don’t know if it was my fire or Apollo’s death, but they vanished as my flames extinguished,” Cerberus replied.
“Samuel?” Columbia said.
I didn’t respond. I stumbled over to Hesiod’s fallen body, and fell to my knees, weeping for my brother. His face was cold, yet peaceful like a man who’d died in his sleep. Apollo was weak for striking out like that! Not even a chance for him to defend himself. What was left now? So many had died to get me here.
Arise.
The voice of an angel. I stayed on my knees.
He is in eternity now. A place meant for him long ago. Do not forget he had been dead long before you awakened.
“Was I not dead too? Why should I continue alive?” I mumbled, still staring at Hesiod’s colorless face.
Rangabes is dead, Samuel is alive. This journey of yours was your own. Look at me and see that you are meant to bring about a new people in a new land. God’s country. Will you be the forebearer, or do you want to die as Rangabes after all, and remain as such?
I stood to my feet and turned to face the voice. St. Michael stood there in all his glory, the gallant archangel mighty and strong. His golden hair and white-lit sword gleamed. He held out his white blade in front of me. Cerberus and Columbia bowed their heads.
“Great Michael, where do I go now? What must I do?” I slowly moved closer to him, his figure pristine yet welcoming, the kindness glowing in his eyes was one that transcended the finite chains of mortal love.
He took his sword and tapped my wounded shoulder. The blade cooled and warmed—a crux of infinite power focused into the now—and my wound was gone as the blazing sword was released. He tapped my other shoulder as well and placed his sword into its diamond jeweled scabbard.
“You will found a powerful people, Samuel. With Columbia as your bride and Cerberus your dog, you must travel forth with a crew of worthy men. The oceans are treacherous and many perils await you on your long voyage. And once you make it ashore, you will find that your promised land is a savage one with many beasts to be tamed, and many noble peoples to be battled. Are you up to the task?”
“Of course,” I said, my fist to my chest.
“As am I,” Cerberus said with Columbia nodding.
“But know that you leave behind the land of the other, the land of myth and bleeding magic, to go to the land of mortality, the land of men. Monsters still roam, many greater than those you’ve already faced, but now you will have to best them alone. You will be weaker in one way, but infinitely stronger for it. Samuel, you have already felt your glowing power diffused, but know that your power is stronger for this exact reason. You will see in due time. Your great axe Solisinanis will remain, but no more can it carry such magic and light. It is still as trusty as ever, but requires an even defter hand now that she is humbled with reality. Your marks will remain as reminders of what you’ve gained here; but your armor, wherever it may have burned off to, will be traded for mere cloth. You did well in your skin. Like in Eden—fitting for paradise. And so I ask, are you willing to give up all this, to continue forward?”
I nodded and said, “Without question.” I crossed myself and gave silent thanks to the Lord. The grace and glory!
Michael held out his hand and a wave of white light flooded over me. I glanced down at myself to see that I was now wearing a simple olive-green tunic with brown trousers and black boots. This would serve me just fine. I’d been a soldier in Constantinople, and at times dressed humbler than this. It felt freeing to wear clothes that fit so simply, though I’d gotten used to the freedom of uncovered flesh. But the mortal world required what it did; I was not in paradise yet.
“And Cerberus... a three-headed, giant beast with serpents writhing about cannot step simply into the land of men and mortality, even transformed as a holy hound of light. You will keep your wit, thought-speech, and your loyal strength will remain; but are you, too, willing to undergo a transformation to the form of a humble canine? You will still be a Molossus dog but no longer gargantuan, merely a bit larger than the average hound. Of course, you can only have one head, and I am afraid no serpents.”
“I am the hound of Hades no more. I left that behind when I slept, and now that I’ve awoken and traveled home, I too am ready for a rebirth—a reawakening. This current form is blessed, but if it keeps me away from Rang... Samuel, then I refuse it. He is my light and I welcome it,” Cerberus said. He lay down and bowed his three heads. His seven serpents wilted like dead flowers.
Michael held out his hands and white light bathed Cerberus until I could see nothing. Then as the light diffused, a powerful Molossus dog stood up. white and pristine, his face smiling and tongue lolling. In his black eyes, I could see Cerberus remained himself, but now we had both taken on mortality to face the new.
“And now you go to Portugal. A man named Vespucci is about to set off on his fourth and final voyage. Christopher Columbus might have spotted your promised land, but Vespucci will take you ashore,” Michael said. He turned to Columbia. “I know you saw that time which was a future, but now has passed. Columbus sailed and saw that land, and your name comes from the great explorer. Wear it well and honor his path. Yours and his are names that will echo into eternity.”
“Time... how long have I been under? How long have I been dead?” I asked.
“Rangabes was dead for more than 50 years. You come back carrying your peoples’ worth. Be worthy of them all, Samuel. Much depends on your journey,” he said.
“And how do we return to the land of the living?” Columbia asked. “To the land of man and mortality, I mean.”
“Listen to Wyrd’s song,” he said with a smile. “Close your eyes and listen. You will awake where you need to be.”
Cerberus trotted over to sit next to me and Columbia moved close to rest her head on my shoulder. Together, we all closed our eyes and listened to the sudden, strange pluck of an invisible harp st
ring.
Cerberus Slept Page 33