It had been a couple of days since the Amazon woman woke up, and her behavior was quite strange. She had not spoken to my father and often gazed at me when she thought I wasn't looking. However, she got along well with my mother and helped her with household chores and lifting heavy objects.
In just a few days, her healing progress was remarkable. She had already regained enough strength to effortlessly lift our wooden table with one hand. Her incredible power was unnatural, something that shouldn’t be able to be achieved so effortlessly. Did in these times have some kind of natural steroid or similar enhancer?
After some insistence from my mother, Myrina and I ventured into the village together, as she was well enough to interact with the people. Throughout the journey, we didn't exchange a single word until we reached the village square, where she asked, "Where is the blacksmith? I need my spear."
Her tone was commanding as if ordering me. However, I had grown accustomed to it and presumed it was simply the way Amazons spoke in general, without any ill intent. "Sure, but remember, you'll have to teach me spearmanship.”
"Of course," she nodded. "An Amazon Warrior never breaks her promise."
Despite her peculiar behavior, I trusted her and knew she would never harm us due to the comradery she had with my mother, so I didn't believe she would harm me with her new spear. Well, even without a weapon, she seemed more than capable of overpowering me, based on what I had seen so far.
Curious to engage in casual conversation, I asked, "So, how strong were you before the injuries?"
"I was at the top of my class," she proudly proclaimed. "I could crush stones with my grip!"
While her claim seemed outrageous, it also had an air of belief. Perhaps the stones on Amazon Island were more brittle?
However, a part of me remained suspicious, contemplating the possibility of being in a mythological Greek world or the distant past of my own world.
Shaking my head, I dismissed such unanswerable thoughts. I will know the truth in due time.
As we walked through the village, some people started whispering when they saw me. Myrina noticed their behavior, raising an inquisitive eyebrow but refrained from questioning me about it.
We eventually reached the blacksmith's workshop, the only building with a chimney. The scent of sulfur greeted us as we entered. The place was filled with various farming tools such as hoes, shovels, rakes, and sickles cluttering the shop.
Behind a counter in the back, stood a stocky man with a thick, dark beard and eyebrows that resembled caterpillars on his forehead.
When he noticed me, his eyes narrowed, widened, and then returned to normal. "How can I assist you?"
Before Myrina could respond rudely, I intervened. "I'm looking for a spear, around two meters long, slightly taller than the woman beside me."
He nodded. "Making a spear is simple. Return in an hour or two, and it will be ready for you."
He then headed to the backroom, beginning his work. Since the village was small and everyone knew each other, theft was not a major concern. That was why I also knew he wouldn’t cheat me on the price.
Afterward, we visited the carpenter, situated on the outskirts of the village square. He also worked as a lumberjack and part-time farmer, considering the limited funds in a small village like ours, where people couldn't afford to purchase furniture often.
Outside the hut, there were tree trunks and partially cut wood planks all around. As we entered, the unmistakable scent of sawdust filled the air. A man with dirty blonde hair and a mustache sat on a wooden plank, cradling a baby in his arms. He lifted her up and down playfully.
"Who's the cutest girl in the world? Yes, it's you," he cooed in a baby voice.
"The cutest girl in the world?" Myrina muttered quietly, ready to confront the carpenter. I took hold of her arm and shook my head.
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"Let me handle the talking. Stay silent," I whispered. She frowned but reluctantly nodded, fixing her gaze on the baby like a hawk.
Goodness, this woman lacks social skills. If I don't keep a close eye on her, she might make enemies. "Excuse me, I'm here to purchase firewood."
The carpenter glanced at me, his eyes widening in shock. He stammered and approached me, his daughter still in his arms, offering a firm handshake that almost dislocated my shoulder.
"My good man! I've heard about your miracle, Idas! I never thought Krano's child would be blessed by the gods!" His exclamation felt like it would burst my eardrums.
"Wahhh!" The baby started crying, and the carpenter realized his mistake, gently rocking her.
Then his gaze narrowed as if he realized something. "Idas, can you bless my daughter?"
“…”
Bless? Sir, you have the wrong guy.
My prolonged silence caused the carpenter to frown. "Come on, I've known your father since childhood. We've helped each other through tough times. How about this: I'll give you the firewood for free, and you can bless my baby daughter?"
Wanting to avoid conflict, I approached the little girl and gently patted her head. "There, you will grow up to be the most beautiful girl in the world. As long as you have people to protect you, happiness will always find you."
The carpenter's face lit up, and his knees trembled as if he wanted to bow before me. Sensing his gratitude, I hurriedly collected the firewood, securing it on my back with a makeshift backpack.
"I could carry those for you," Myrina offered.
While she probably had the strength, she was still recovering from her injuries, and I didn't want to risk reopening her wounds. It was best to prioritize her health. "Not now, maybe when you're feeling better."
..
As we walked, her persistent stare grew increasingly uncomfortable.
"If you have something to say, go ahead," I sighed, exasperated.
"Why do people refer to you as 'the blessed' or 'the miracle' man?" she asked, her face brimming with curiosity. "I've heard stories about Amazon Warriors wielding weapons blessed by Lord Ares, never rusting or losing their sharpness. There's also this girl whose grandmother received a bow from Lady Artemis herself, the Goddess of the Hunt!"
"I'm not actually blessed," I stated, slightly unsettled by her mention of gods. I secretly hoped to never encounter the Greek gods, if they truly existed. "It was just a misunderstanding. They believed I did something remarkable, though it wasn't really all that impressive."
She continued to gaze at me, seeking further explanations, but I offered none. This was a complex situation and I wasn't sure how to navigate. People admired heroes, yet they reveled even more in witnessing their downfall.
Myrina's curiosity persisted even as we strolled to the grocery store and began shopping.
***
Idas was peculiar, Myrina thought.
Why would someone refuse a God's blessing?
Myrina couldn't comprehend it, but a part of her felt a twinge of concern. Though she held no regard for a man like Idas, nor did she care about his fate. Still, he saved her life. Katia, his mother, would also be devastated if he were to perish.
The Gods were enigmatic beings, yet Myrina knew they were easily offended. Rejecting their blessings was a sin that could condemn Idas to eternal torment—an unimaginable fate even for her worst enemy.
However, perhaps Idas had a valid reason. Maybe the villagers misunderstood his intentions. So, while Idas was buying vegetables and negotiating prices, Myrina discreetly surveyed the surroundings and spotted another woman tending to a stall adorned with peppers.
Approaching the woman without drawing Idas' attention, Myrina spoke softly, "Excuse me, may I ask you something?"
"Of course, dear," the woman replied with a polite smile. Despite the villagers being considered backward and secluded, they possessed an air of civility.
"Why do they refer to him as the Blessed Man or the Miracle Boy?" Myrina gestured with her thumb towards Idas.
The woman glanced around, visibly uneasy, before leaning closer and whispering, "Because of you."
"Me?" Myrina was taken aback. How was she connected to this entire situation?
"Yes, you," the woman nodded, her weathered eyes crinkling. "When you were washed ashore, your lips were purple, your face pale, and your body was covered in blood, poison, and wounds. Moreover, you weren't breathing. It was clear that you were dead. But then the boy came, placed his hand on your chest, and suddenly you coughed up water and started breathing again. You were dead... and returned to life."
Myrina felt a strange chill engulf her body upon hearing this. She had never realized she had encountered death and escaped its clutches thanks to Idas.
The way the old woman said it, this was common knowledge around here.
He had brought her back to life… Even among the legends of individuals blessed by the Gods with extraordinary powers or bestowed with weapons, Myrina had never come across someone capable of resurrecting the dead.
That kind of power belonged solely to the Gods themselves!