by Damon Glatz
The men on the ships cheered. There on the island was their king, Nicholas the Brute, standing over the defeated Mythic of Water. Nicholas knew how this needed to end. A stab to the heart, or a decapitated head could only kill a Mythic.
This beast has no heart, Nicholas thought to himself.
King Nicholas raised his father’s sword to deliver the final blow.
Chapter Thirty:
Fall from Grace
“Stop!” There was a loud, shrill voice from behind Nicholas. His attack froze mid swing. He was sure there was no one else on the island but him. He recognized it as a woman’s voice. Unsure of what he would see, he was momentarily afraid to turn around.
“Who is that?” Ohitekah squinted to see the island from where he was on the ship. There was suddenly another person behind Nicholas.
Red could not believe what he was seeing. “It cannot be... she would never...”
“Please,” the voice said. “Not my child.”
Nicholas gripped his sword and turned around. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was behind him. She seemed to be made out of water, like a flowing stream was trickling down an invisible marble statue. Her blue, naked body seemed small and fragile, and she was shaking.
There was nothing else she could be.
It was the Goddess of the Sea.
“Why?” Nicholas growled, breathing heavy. “It deserves death.”
The goddess fell to her knees. “Please, be merciful King Nicholas. This is my child, I birthed him, and I love him. Please. Don’t kill him.” It was hard to tell, but it looked as if she was crying.
Red smiled. This sight pleased him more than he could have dreamed. The Goddess of the Sea, a proud deity that reigned supreme over mortals was brought weeping to her knees by mankind. It was perfect.
“There is nothing you can say to stop me, woman,” Nicholas spoke strongly, keeping his composure in front of a goddess. “What you and your monster have done is beyond forgiveness.” He turned back and raised his sword again.
“You won,” She shouted reaching out to him. “You beat him, you beat us. You proved that man is stronger. There’s no reason to kill him. We have learned our lesson, and the Mythic will now serve you, its king. You do not want to be a Mythic, do you? Living forever, never joining the table of your father. Never being able to drink and sing with your men again. It is but a curse. The Mythic shall stay here, in his cave until you call for him, he shall serve the future kings of this land as a soldier in your armada, just like the dragon of Ashland in times past.”
“Do not believe her. She is lying.” Red frowned, speaking only to himself, watching them from his ship.
Lance looked to him, unsure of what he was saying.
“No.” Nicholas turned back around, staring hard into the goddess’s eyes. He lowered his sword. She was terrified. Nicholas shook his head. “Not as a soldier, not as an equal. As a slave. If I demand for it to be my court jester then it will dance for me. If I want it to warm my bath water, then it shall.” He looked into the large eyes of the defeated monster. It stared into its mother’s eyes.
“It will never be allowed to eat again. This cave will be its prison for eternity. If I ever feel like you have misled me I will come back here and make your child’s skull into a hall centerpiece.” Her deep blue eyes widened. “But first, I want you to beg.”
“What?” She stammered, offended by the thought.
Nicholas raised his sword again, threatening the downed beast. “Beg me for his life. Lose all sense of dignity and beg me to spare him.”
“You dare?” She stood up.
Nicholas brought down his sword.
“Please!” She rushed over and fell to her knees. Nicholas stopped. “I beg you. I have no power to stop you in this realm. The Mythic is my only extension and you defeated it. I need my child to live. Spare his life and we will be eternally in your debt, I swear on it. A goddess’ word. Anything. Please I beg of you for mercy upon my child, King Nicholas.”
Nicholas smiled. “That’s more like it.” He sheathed his sword on his back. The goddess ran and held the Mythic in her arms, stroking its face softly with her hand. “As long as you admit defeat, victory is ours. If you break your oath there will be hell to pay.”
Red shook his head. “What a mistake. This was our only chance.”
“Thank you, kind king. The Mythic owes you his life.”
“Do not forget that… ever.” Nicholas signaled for a ship to pick him up. Ohitekah and the captain sailed as near to the rocky shore as they could. Nicholas dove off the cliff and into the sea. He surfaced nearby and climbed onto the deck. When he stepped onto the wood of his ship his men cheered. The men on every ship cheered, shouted, and banged their weapons together. Nicholas raised his hand and they grew silent.
“The Mythic was let to live. Your king has decided to make it his servant. He belongs to us now and must do our bidding. Victory is ours, and ours alone. Our dead have not fallen in vain. Every man here will be written about in legend and song for all eternity.”
The men shouted again in a roaring cheer.
The captain turned to Nicholas. Nicholas nodded. It was time to honor the dead.
Lance and Red’s ship rejoined the others; a plank was raised and they boarded Nicholas’. As many of the fallen men they had on the ships were wrapped in white cloth ceremoniously. Each ship did this in unison as Nicholas led the prayer.
“Our Creator… these were great men. They died for their king. For their land. For glory. They fought so that we no longer need to live in fear of the Mythic. They died so that we may become masters of our own fate. All of them will sit in the great hall of our fathers. There is no greater honor than to die in glorious battle as they did today. I hope to someday sit beside these men again. Today, and the rest of our lives, we honor their names. Olaf, my friend. You helped me avenge my father. You fought by my side. I will miss you always.”
Ohitekah fought the urge to cry. Nicholas looked sad, but shed no tears. He had lost a good friend today. Lance and Red stood together in silence. The wrapped bodies were gently laid into the sea where they sank to the depths. If they had the available longboats and manpower each man would have received a traditional burial at sea, but with supplies as they were, this would be sufficient to honor them. Each ship laid their friends to eternal rest. There was a long, respectful pause of silence.
The captain walked back over to Nicholas. “Where to now, My King?”
Nicholas looked at Ohitekah. Now was his side of the deal. They smiled. “Leave us at the mainland. We have one last job to do.”
The captain looked concerned. “You’re leaving us? We have a nation to rebuild, the people need you.”
Nicholas rested his hand on the man’s shoulder. “This will not be long, expect me shortly. But I have one last task to do…”
The captain hesitated, then nodded. “God speed.”
The Mythic of Water lay atop the roof of the cave, unable to move. The mysterious woman was still at its side, petting it. Nicholas gave them a hard stare, unsure of his decision. A chance to kill the Mythic would not come again easily. Slowly the Mythic lifted its head off the rocks and lowered itself under the water and into its cave. The woman walked to the edge of the cliff and stared back at Nicholas. Her eyes moved to Red, then Ohitekah, then Lance. A smirk flickered on her perfect face. Then, as if the form supporting her beautiful figure vanished, the water that was her body splashed down onto the rocks and the woman disappeared.
“Who was that?” Ohitekah asked Nicholas. She reminded him of the goddess he met before, but he did not believe what he had just seen.
“It’s who you think it was,” Nicholas said with a bit of sadness.
“Why didn’t you kill the Mythic? Did she stop you?”
“I didn’t think I was going to kill it anyway.” Nicholas looked away. “I’m no Mythic, lad. I don’t desire that kind of power, nor the responsibility. I’m barely even a king. It’s not my p
lace. Even if it deserved to die. The goddess begged for its life and swore to serve me. I agreed. Seemed like a good deal.”
“Should of killed the damned thing.” Lance glared, interrupting him. “You trust her word? You’re a fool.”
Some of the men groaned and stood tall in defense of their king. Nicholas waved them away.
“I would rather have the goddess and the Mythic as allies than foes. Now we get the power without the responsibilities. Not everyone wants to be a Mythic, Lance. It’s a burden, a curse. I wanted the victory, not the power. I needed to avenge my family, my oppressed people. I did that. We won. The Mythic was defeated and we control it now. It’s not my place.”
Lance grew angry. “You can’t control the gods. Once the Mythic is healed your people will stand no chance against it. You had your one moment to finish the struggle for good, and you threw it away. Enjoy your victory for now because this is a miserable defeat waiting to happen.”
“Why so upset, Lance?” Nicholas thundered towards him. “I thought you had nothing to do with this? What, are you beginning to realize that killing a Mythic is harder than it seems? Having some doubts… Prince?”
Lance scowled and grabbed the hilt of his sword.
“Stop this.” Ohitekah stood between them. “Nicholas did what he had to do and what he felt was right. No one should fault him for that.”
Nicholas turned his back to Lance in anger. He trusted his decision, and so did his men. Lance paced around the ship, shaking his head. Ohitekah wanted to stay out of it but hated hearing them fight. He tried to think about what was to come.
Nicholas’ job was finished and he was true to his word. It was all about him now, the last stretch of the mission. As Nicholas put it, ‘one more job to do.’ Ohitekah felt his nerves again. He could not just watch anymore. He had to face the battles himself. And just like Nicholas said, this was his fight.
Ohitekah stopped listening to the men bicker on the deck and went below. He sat alone, surrounded by his thoughts and doubt. He lost track of time as the boat rocked back and forth, moving them closer and closer to his unwanted fight. There was a pat on his shoulder. It was his friend, Nicholas. He sat down beside him and smiled.
“I couldn’t have done it without you, lad. You know I owe you more than my life. We can beat your Mythic, I know we can.”
“But if we do, Lance and Red will try to kill each other.”
“That’s between them. You didn’t ask for that. You need to focus on what this is all about. You were sent by your spirits to do this. We don’t know why yet, but it’s important. You were chosen for this. The gods didn’t even know who I was until today. You were picked by someone.” Nicholas stood and reached out his hand again. “Let’s do this.”
Ohitekah looked at his feet. He wasn’t ready for this, for any of this. He just wanted to go home. But in order for him to do that, he had to try. He grabbed Nicholas’ arm and was promptly hoisted up and they stood side by side, smiling.
A day and night passed on the ship. Most time was spent telling stories, the crew told tales of their epic quests in the past. Lance stayed by himself for the most part, not wanting to speak to anyone. Ohitekah figured he was facing the same nerves Lance had. They both had a Mythic to fight soon, though Lance had been waiting his whole life for this. His enemy was standing on the same boat as him.
Does he still feel the same way about Red?
Nicholas was quieter than usual as well. He was still grieving for his friend. Ohitekah could hear him at night talking to himself, begging Olaf to forgive him. Ohitekah wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t know what to say. He was never good at that sort of thing.
Eventually he felt total comfort on the rocking ship. He barely noticed it anymore. The movement even helped him sleep.
In the morning, he found himself watching the gulls follow the ship. They glided in the breeze, not needing to flap their wings. He wondered about the joys of flight.
If I become the Mythic of Thunder, could I fly? Red could fly, in a way...
Red flew less like a bird and more like a tornado. Ohitekah wanted to soar, like the Thunderbird.
Now that’s a power I would like to have.
“Land ho!” a shout echoed from the Crow’s Nest atop the main mast..
Nicholas and Ohitekah walked together to the front of the ship. It was the mainland, the same harbor town they left from. The settlement was the small Vatnic outpost on the shore of the plains where they left their horses. There was a group of men cheering them on as they approached. They must have heard the news of Nicholas and the Mythic. The ship smoothly pulled into port and was tied to the dock. Men and women gathered at the docks to hear the news of the battle with King Ivan and the Mythic. Nicholas put on his crown proudly and began telling the stories of the battles he led with his men. The people gathered close so they could all hear. The children listened with huge eyes. Some of them began re-enacting the battle as he was telling it. The crowd cheered during the more dramatic scenes. They looked around when he mentioned Ohitekah shot the eye of the beast, and some of them patted his back the same way Nicholas always does.
When the story died down, people started asking their new king questions. Ohitekah walked to the stables where the horses were held. They seemed to be healthy and well kept. He gave Bolt a hug around his thick neck.
“This is it, boy.” He did not know what else to say. “You will be home soon, Bolt. Thank you for everything.” Bolt made a soft noise and lowered his head. Red walked into the stable.
“Are you ready? We can dedicate more time to training if you think you need it.”
“No, I am ready,” said Ohitekah, though he did not believe that. Half of his decision was to speed things up for Lance. Even though he did not want them to fight, he did not want to anger Lance any more with training. He deserved what he came for.
“Do not worry about me and Lance,” Red interrupted his train of thought. “What you are doing is far more important than our little fight. Concentrate on the task at hand. Lance is a good man. He is just heading down a confusing path. I think our journey has changed him for the better.” Red smiled. “You have changed as well, Ohitekah. You are stronger and braver then when we met. You fight for the right reasons. You defend your friends. When you battle the Mythic, remember why you fight. Fight for your family, fight for your people. You will be a leader of them when this is over. Trust in yourself. We are all here for you should you need us. Let’s get this over with and go see your family again.”
Now Ohitekah smiled. After all he has been through, surviving the plains and forest alone, breaking Nicholas out of prison... twice. Meeting a beautiful goddess. Seeing three Mythics and fighting one of them. Meeting the harsh prince of Ashland. Helping Nicholas become a king and avenge his family. He had already done more than he could ever imagine on his own.
Lance walked into the stable door and stood away from them, distant as always.
Lance. The lone prince of Ashland.
Ohitekah had never felt so much respect and fear for anyone in his life before. Though he may not feel the same way, Ohitekah still considered him a friend. They saved each other’s lives a few times. They traveled and survived together, that means something. If only there was another way for him and Red to settle their differences.
“What are we waiting for?” Lance insisted. “Let us get on with our mission” He walked his horse out of the building. Red nodded and grabbed the reins of Nicholas’ horse. Nicholas was jumping around on the docks retelling an animated version of the Mythic battle again while the men cheered below. Ohitekah could not hear the story, but he could tell Nicholas was talking about him. He gestured of pulling back a bow and then covered his eye as if wounded. Then with his hand he mimed the Mythic bursting out of the water. The men applauded at the end when Nicholas spared the Mythic so they could use it as an ally.
“Time to go, Nicholas!” Lance shouted from his horse. Nicholas held up a finger and continued talking. La
nce rolled his eyes. Nicholas continued the story to a new audience from before. The men visibly grew sad when Nicholas spoke of Olaf’s death. Nicholas spoke proudly of him and honored him well. He recounted a few of the fallen names thereafter. After a moment, he said his goodbyes and left the docks. He climbed on his horse and rode next to Ohitekah, giving a wink. Red walked next to them on foot as they left the town. Once entering the plains again, he gave a loud, echoing snap with his fingers just as he did when they first entered the Ashland woods together. His brick colored horse came over the hill and rejoined them, summoned again by the sound. Red had mentioned that Blaze refused to stay in human stables.
They left the Vatnic town and rode east for the first time in weeks, deep into the expanse of rolling green and yellow fields. They rode together for hours and hours, nothing but the silence of the breeze. They explored deeper into the never-ending world of the plains, everyone keeping out a watchful eye. Lance was growing more and more agitated in his saddle. He wanted his fight. It was owed to him.
There is no way to make the Thunderbird come down. It could be on the other side of the world by now, they would never know. This fight may not even happen.
Red, who was leading, came to an abrupt halt. Everyone else slowed behind him.
“Ohitekah.” Red looked into his eyes. “You are not alone in your search.” Red turned to look towards the horizon. “The Mythic is also looking for you.”
Everyone froze; no one dared to make a sound. He listened to the wind. There was a cold breeze that flowed over their faces. Ohitekah’s hair pulled away from him, Lance’s cloak whipped from behind. Nicholas’ horse whimpered and stomped its hoof nervously into the ground, wanting to turn back. Ohitekah sat on Bolt, scanning the horizon. Red was squinting into the distance, and Ohitekah traced his line of sight.
He saw a sight that usually gave hope to tribesmen, a symbol that granted the gift of life to those surviving on the desolate plains. Now, for the first time, it was a sight that horrified Ohitekah to his core.