At the top of the plateau, towering above us, stood the statue of Athena their patron goddess. Perhaps it had been the enmity between Athena and Ares that once sparked that ancient war. Who could say for sure now?
"Well, well… my bet paid off," came a mocking voice.
By the statue, leaning casually against its pedestal, stood Hermes.
"Who would've thought you'd been hiding on Crete," he said with a crooked smile. "Most already believed you were dead, Damocles."
My grip on the spear tightened. The gods were always closer than they seemed. And they never appeared without a reason.
"Had you stayed there until your final days, we wouldn't have interfered," Hermes said and in the next instant, he was right in front of me. His movement was lightning-quick. I raised my head and met his gaze.
"You're not the fearful type, are you?" He tilted his head, studying me like a predator eyeing prey.
"Are we going to fight, or did you come just to chat?" I asked.
"You're a mortal. Do you truly think you can challenge a god?" He smirked. "Even if you tried, you wouldn't have the time."
It happened in a flash. His fist shot toward my face, but my shield was already raised. Steel met flesh, and the blow rang through my shoulder. I held my ground. I didn't flinch.
"You'd best not overreach. If you decide to stand against Olympus, we will crush you without hesitation," Hermes said and vanished the next moment.
Charming conversation.
"Had your fill? Let's go," muttered Diogenes, as if nothing had happened.
I glanced around. The passersby hadn't noticed a thing. No one saw him? I turned the shield over: a shallow dent marked the place where godly knuckles had struck.
"Let's move," I said.
It had been a warning. Olympus was making its position clear: stay out of their affairs. Don't get in the way. Or… was it the opposite?
Under my armor, I felt something out of place beneath the straps of my breastplate. I reached down and pulled out a small metal token. On one side a skull. On the other a tree.
A hallucination?
Unlikely. I focused, steeling my mind with will. No sign of intrusion. That meant they either wanted me to walk away from my plan… or fulfill it.
Very well. I would take time to think.
***********************
During my time in Athens, following Diogenes' advice, I spent many days within the city's academies and schools. Not a day passed without Diogenes plunging into some heated debate with a philosopher or scholar over the nature of existence. Usually, he came out on top it was nearly impossible to land a solid argument against him. He twisted their words with ease, turning them back upon their speakers like sharpened blades.
But the truth was deeper.
He did not argue to win. He knew many of them were right. What he wanted was to make them doubt because only through doubt could a person draw closer to the truth… or else become unshakable in their conviction.Or maybe he was just an old, stubborn man with too much free time.
Callista managed to find herself a home, and soon bought it out. She found work, devoting herself to weaving and clothwork.
As for me, I continued to train Nikandros in the art of the sword and spear.
I myself never stopped training. As my understanding grew, so too did my control and strength. But that was not the true key.
Will was never the product of intellect. It came from the spirit.
And I could feel it: the old boundaries were dissolving. Disappearing. This was more than growth it was a struggle. A transformation. A shedding. To rise higher, I had to stop being human. To abandon everything of the world feelings, memories, weaknesses and take the next step forward.
But what is the point of my struggle, if I lose my soul in the process?
One thing I know for certain: my fate lies in my own hands.
In time, I finally began to piece together where the entrance to the underworld might be. No living soul knew its true location, but there were places where it was likely. One such entrance, according to scattered accounts, lay in the eastern mountains of Sparta. I had never heard of such a place before, but I wasn't about to dismiss the possibility.
Another path, they said, could be found through the caves of Mycenae passages that burrowed into the very heart of the earth. Rumor had it that those who dared to descend into those depths never returned.
Finding the guilty would not be easy. But it seemed I would have to confront Charon himself. Other semi-divine beings, too, were said to dwell near or within that realm: Hecate, goddess of magic, thresholds, and night; Thanatos, the embodiment of death, and his daughters; and various spirits who ruled over emotion, vice, and shadow all of them bound in one way or another to the underworld.
It was time to set out again. But this time into enemy territory.
The whole of Argolis was now preparing for war against Sparta. Traveling through those lands would not be easy. But there was no one there who could stop me.
Having made my decision, I departed at once.
"The underworld? Decided to die early? No thanks I plan to stick around," Diogenes scoffed. "Athens would collapse without me."
"Of course. The city wouldn't last a day without you," I replied, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.
"Pfft," he muttered in return.
After saying farewell to him, I also parted ways with Callista. Nikandros wanted to come with me, but I convinced him to stay. His mother would not manage on her own. I left him with one task to protect her.
"If you can, visit us sometime. Nikandros would be glad to see you again," Callista said, and reached out to press a soft kiss to my cheek.
"I'll return," I promised and set out on my way.
Let the gods think they can use me against their enemies. In the meantime, I will only grow stronger.
***********************************
From behind one of the trees, Hermes watched the Spartan in silence. The prophecy about Zeus's son one who would kill his father and bring about the downfall of the pantheon was known only to a few. Not even all the gods were aware of it.
But Hermes… Hermes listened. And more importantly, he thought.
Damocles wasn't a demigod. He was human wholly human. Not a drop of divine blood flowed in his veins. And yet, he had torn himself free from the grip of death. He had no connection to the prophecy.
And yet the Moirai, the Fates, spoke of him as a man who could plunge Olympus into chaos if he was not killed. At first, the Olympians had refused to believe it. They preferred to act on their own terms. One of the sisters had let something slip they knew next to nothing about Damocles. They simply feared him, because he had slipped beyond their control.
In time, they forgot him. Until he shocked them all by fighting the Kraken. Not even every god would dare face such a monster. But Damocles had fought. And he had survived.
There was something in him… something greater than strength alone.
"Let's see what you bring about or what you change," Hermes murmured. "Time to remind those who dare defy the gods exactly where they stand."
The coin he had given him had not been random. Among the gods, some had begun to believe themselves greater than Olympus itself. They needed to be corrected. Made into examples.
Examples for the rest.