30 began counting them in his head, each soldier and hero who had failed to claim their victory or prize. But he would emerge like the singular sun, glorious as arrow piercing serpent, arms heavy with bounty. Clang! He swore as the metallic echo of whatever he tripped over reverberated through the cavern. He heard a hiss, and quick footsteps. The demi-god clutched the vial tighter. With heart pounding, he made a bet. “My lady!” he called, his voice replacing the previous echo. “I have a cure.” He waited. Blind. Bated breath. Listening. Ahead he heard a faint bubbling sound, and the rich smell of olives grew stronger. Finally, he heard the swish of silk, a gentle hiss, a shuffle a ways beyond. “Explain,” said a sibilating voice. The demi-god held out the vial. He could feel its warmth beneath his fingers, its power against his flesh. “My name is Kakos! I am the son of Apollo, the great god of healing. From my father, I demanded an antidote for the harm that has been done to you. I traveled across land and sea. I fought off monsters and bandits, and now I bring with me a gift.” He ended his speech with a flourishing bow, and a winning smile. The silent response left him fraught, but then she responded with a hopeful whisper. “Why have you done this?” The demi-god, regaining his composure, grinned. “I come from Aeolis. I know your parents. Your story. I know you weren’t to blame.” Slow footsteps approached. He imagined a trembling young woman emerging behind a marble pillar, soft face flickering in candlelight, eyes wide with yearning. He could
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM4ODY=