Thera had been having a fairly boring morning until a glowing giant fell from the sky and crushed her cart. He impacted into the rickety old thing face first, vaporizing the jars of jam in the back and turning the sandstone street beneath into a small crater. She rushed over to the figure and in horror realized he was lying motionless in a pool of dark red.
That son of a bitch had ruined her entire shipment of cranberry jam.
He had also probably died which admittedly was a little worse, but the jam would have made her a pretty penny and by the gods Thera did not have money to lose. After her mother passed and her father went to go work up north, she had no-one else to rely on. She grabbed a largish stick from the pile of shattered wood that was once her cart and prodded him with it. He rolled over with a groan, and Thera‘s eyes widened. He was still alive! He had to be a wizard. No mortal could have survived a fall at that speed into the loving embrace of stone and shattered glass. She had never met a wizard before, were they supposed to be seven feet tall? Maybe he was a dragon disguised as a human.
She moved to poke him again, but his hand blurred with inhuman speed and he snatched the stick away before she could react. The man groaned again and pulled himself up to his full height, casting her and the wreckage of the cart in shadow. He was wearing a white uniform that had been horrifically stained by the cranberries, and his features were still obscured by a thick coating of the stuff.
“Are you okay mister?” Thera asked nervously as she backed away and brushed her long dark hair out of her eyes. It had just begun to dawn on her how dangerous this being was. He had ripped the stick from her hand before she even knew he was moving. Nothing should be that fast, especially not something that big. The man was a giant in every sense of the word, his white uniform doing little to hide his rippling muscles, and his shoulders stretching nearly as wide as the cart he had crushed. His statuesque physique reminded her of the historical murals which littered the city, and as he opened his eyes she realized why. They burned blue, like twin bolts of lightning barely contained within that jelly-covered brow. As he wiped his face with the long purple cape trailing from his back, her suspicions were confirmed. He had the same regal features and short-cropped hair that were stamped on every gold coin in her pouch. The Radiant King had just fallen face first into her jam cart. And she had poked him with a stick.
She stared at him, dumbstruck. Hektorious Makedon was standing before her. Thera’s mother had told her bedtime stories about his battles with the troll kings of the north, his triumph over Aissirath, and his duel with Farouk Blackheart. She had spent twelve years in school learning his proper prayers and rites. Her uncle didn’t even believe he existed. But there he was, covered head to toe in cranberry jam. His eyes focused on her as he wiped the last bit of cranberry off his cheek and she froze with fear. She closed her eyes, preparing for the inevitable smiting via lightning bolt, but it never came. “I broke your cart” he said softly, as a strange expression spread across his face. “I’m terribly sorry.” Was that embarrassment? Thera wondered in confusion. “Are you alright?” he continued as she began to process the situation. “I’m fine my lord-er uh your majesty,” she stammered. “Pardon me oh Radiant one, I am truly uh, not deserving of your presence.”
“Please,” he said. “I’m wiping jelly off my pants, there’s no need for court language. Hektorious will do fine. May I ask for your name young miss?” Thera nodded. “The name’s Thera Majeed. So um, my glorious Lord Hektorious. Forgive my uh, arrogance at asking this but why exactly did you fall into my cart?”
“It’s a rather embarrassing story actually,” he said as he began to examine the wreckage of her cart. “I was flying.”
“Into the ground?” She blurted out without thinking. Thera gasped and covered her mouth instinctually, but it was too late. Her uncle had always said that her unending speech would be her undoing, and it looked like he was right. She closed her eyes and prepared for the lightning bolt that was sure to come, but Hektorious just let out a soft laugh. “I’m out of practice.”
This was not what Thera had been expecting. He certainly looked the part of a god king, but Hektorious was supposed to be aloof and wrathful like the storms themselves, not apologetic and mild mannered. “So,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “This cart was probably worth a lot of money. I’d like to pay you back, but-” he tried to say before the wailing of alarm klaxons cut him off. He winced before continuing. “My time is limited and I didn’t think to carry any cash with me, as my exit was a spur of the moment thing.”
Thera could hear a distant commotion headed her way. The alarm made it difficult to hear, but it sounded almost like the squawking of the giant and ravenous war-birds the City Guard rode. It was getting nearer. Thera’s stomach dropped as she realized something very serious was happening, and she was right in the center of it.
“Ms. Majeed, would you accept collateral? I can’t pay now, but I assure you that I can later. This trinket should show my sincerity.” Before she could speak he held out his hand and twitched his fingers. With a crackle of electricity and the burning smell of ozone, threads of lightning burst from his arm and wrapped themselves around his stained sleeve. They twisted their way towards his hand, sizzling and popping as they slithered around his wrist and into his palm. The snaking arcs of electricity coiled themselves into a ball before exploding outward in a blinding flash of light.
When her vision returned, Thera saw Hektorious holding an ornate broadsword that smoldered with power. It was about four feet long, and its leaf shaped blade glowed a cobalt blue. He let go of the sword which hung in the air. “Synnefo, be polite” he said and the sword spun, its hilt facing Thera. Mesmerized, she reached out and the sword floated into her hand. She felt a slight shock as she closed her fist around the worn leather hilt, but she was so enthralled by the ethereal blade that she barely noticed.
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Hektorious clapped his hands, jarring Thera out of her trance. “Synefo, take care of the young lady, and Miss Thera I’ll pay for the cart as soon as possible.” Thera stared at him bewildered as the angered squawks of constable war-birds grew louder and louder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.”
In a blur he turned and sprinted away down one of the winding roads, leaving Thera bewildered and alone with the glowing blade.
She looked down at the sword's shimmering surface. Despite it being a perfectly clear morning, the blue metal reflected a dark sky of broiling clouds which swirled into a pair of eyes. They narrowed, as if they were examining her and a childlike voice laughed in her ear. Now this? This is a pleasant surprise it said, the voice ringing through her head. Thera let out a startled yelp and dropped the sword, which hung motionless in the air. Ah yes, the voice said. I suppose that was fairly rude, but you must forgive me, I have literally never spoken to anyone aside from Hektorious before. I didn’t actually think you could hear me. Thera took a deep breath. All right, she thought. The sword talks. That’s hardly the strangest thing that’s happened this morning. The sword floated back over to her, a red leather scabbard and belt materializing over the cloudy blade. You know I’d love to hash this all out, exchange pleasantries, go for brunch, but I’m afraid a fair amount of the constabulary are headed our way. As it is now my charge to protect you until Hektorious’ debt has been repaid, I’d rather you not get arrested and I would prefer to stay out of an evidence locker. Put me on, and get moving please.
This is crazy she thought as she grabbed the sword. I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I run? She buckled the belt around her waist. I should just go quietly and explain what happened. It’d be the sensible thing to after all, but something was wrong. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the sword’s voice, inhuman as it was, held nervousness behind its glib exterior. That made her terrified.
Aside from that, she’d seen a war-bird tear a fully-grown wolf apart and feed it to its hatchlings before, so she wasn’t really keen about getting on the bad side of one.
A shrill shriek tore through the morning air, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A War-bird had her scent. She turned away from the screech and began to run as fast as she could back towards the market, leaping over beggars who blocked the way and dodging the many multicolored vendors who littered the streets on an early Apollusday morning.
Despite her efforts, the shriek was getting closer. She sprinted into the main square looking desperately for a crowd to lose her pursuers in but there was no such luck. The main throng of shoppers wouldn’t be here until after lunch at the very earliest.
Cursing the laziness of her countrymen, Thera looked over her shoulder and saw a red-cloaked guard barreling down the road towards her on his crazed steed. She cursed and ran to the right, ducking into another alleyway. Additional shrieks joined the first as more began to close in. Thera swore through ragged breaths. She had never been a runner, and the birds would close the distance soon. She had seen what happened to people caught by those damned birds. Thera turned another corner, barely dodging out of the way of a trundling automobile and swore once again at what she saw. The road lead to a yellow stone office building, its red roof at least a hundred feet above the road. She was in a dead end.
Thera tried to stop, her sandals sliding on the smooth sandstone, but the swords voice was in her ear again. No. It said in a strained voice. Keep running. Trust me. Thera was too tired to argue, so she ran, ignoring the crazed shrieks and the sound of talons scrabbling across the cobblestone that grew closer and closer. When she was about forty feet from the building the sword screamed JUMP! in her ear. She closed her eyes and jumped, expecting the sharp beak of a war-bird to tear into her back at any moment.
Instead, her feet never touched the ground.
She opened her eyes and looked down to see the wailing pack of war birds and their red-cloaked riders fifty feet below. She was flying. Well, more like falling slowly, Thera realized as she began to descend. She landed on far edge of the sloped roof, managing to catch on to the red shingles before she slid off the other side.
Thera ripped the sword off her waist. “What the fuck did you do?” she said, her voice shaking. I didn’t do anything really. Just pushed it along. Can we please run? Those birds can fly you know. Thera turned and nearly fell backwards as a war-bird popped its head over the edge of the roof, gnashing its needle filled beak. Or at least climb buildings. The bird pulled its full mass up onto the roof, and the constable riding it pointed his revolver at her head. “Damn shame you had to be mixed up in this miss” he said, thumbing the hammer back.
Thera swallowed. She was going to die. Then with a splash, the gun melted into water. “That’s enough officer!” a cold female voice barked from behind her. Thera turned and for the second time that day, she saw a god. Clad in ornate purple armor that leaked vaporous energy; she floated ten feet above the roof, her dark red cape fluttering in the breeze. Her face was a hard and sharp, with high cheekbones and luminescent purple eyes narrowed into slits. Princess Hamera, the Archmage and the Goddess of Magic had just saved her life.
She flicked her wrist, and a band of golden energy pulled itself into reality beside Thera. With another flick of the wrist, it wrapped itself around her, pinning her arms to the side before she could react. “Next time you chase a witness, don’t shoot them you idiot!” snarled Hamera. The constable opened his mouth to protest, but a web of gold encircled both him and his mount before rolling off the roof and plummeting to the ground below. Thera gasped, and the princess shifted her withering glare to her. “They lived. Unfortunately. If you want to, I recommend you stay silent until after we reached the queen. Then, you better talk our fucking ears off about exactly what happened between you and my father.”
Thera nodded, and the golden band lifted Thera off the roof. It expanded into a golden ball that held her trapped within, and both the goddess and her captive flew off through the crystal clear morning to the Heavenly Palace that stood monolithic over the mortal city below.