Chapter 8: Training Montage?
Odysseus blinked, and just like that, Claire was fine, his vision gone.
At that moment Odysseus understood something, these visions, these images. He was seeing the future, or a moment yet to come. That was the only explanation Odysseus had.
That, or he was going crazy, but the fact there was a four-legged horsemen staring at him, Odysseus was beginning to think the latter.
“Wow, guess he's not gonna go very far.” Claire quipped. “Yoohoooo helloooo?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” Odysseus said, moving the redhead’s hand out of his face.
“If you’re fine. Then on your feet. Every second we waste is another delay to your preparedness for what is to come.” Chiron said, turning his large body away and beckoning Odysseus to follow. Getting dressed in the light and breathable clothes, Odysseus followed, avoiding Claire’s gaze. Every time he looked at her the image of her crying and on fire overlapped with her current self, causing him to wince.
Considering the horseman wasn't reacting to the woman casually walking around wrapped in flames, it was a safe assumption what he was seeing was an affliction of some kind.
He'd have to add it to the list of questions he'd need to ask Chiron.
Following the old centaur through the encampment, Odysseus entered into a wooden cabin made of logs, a place filled with chairs and blackboards coated with white drawings.
“Take a seat.” Chiron instructed, the horseman visibly shrinking, his appearance reverting back into his full humanoid form with the bronze armor he wore on his back half morphing to form around his waistband.
Odysseus took a seat at a wooden chair that held a desk attached to it.
“Before we begin, do you have questions for me?” Chiron asked, sitting across from Odysseus at a large desk.
“What is the Tower of the Gods?” Odysseus asked immediately. His brow furrowed with his palms clenched. “Where am I and what am I supposed to do here?”
Chiron took a breath before pointing towards a blackboard where it began to sport its own drawings.
“The tower of the gods is a place that exists between realms and dimensions. Separated from your reality to protect it. Here, champions from across all time and space enter into pacts with one of twelve patrons.” Chiron explained with his words being transcribed into images via the enchanted blackboard. “Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Nike, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes, and Dionysus. To enter here, is to have gained the patronage of an Olympian and represent them as their champion as you scale the infinite tower.”
Beside each name were symbols and titles, a hierarchy that explained the domain each god and goddess ruled.
Odysseus’s eyes fell over Nike’s name and her symbol of a laurel wreath.
“Infinite? How am I supposed to scale something that goes on forever?” Odysseus asked, causing the centaur to adjust his eyes downward.
Stolen story; please report.
“The tower isn’t infinite… It's just the name the denizens that now call it their home have for it. The tower has an end, but these floors and these trials have a way of breaking one’s resolve long before they reach the peak.”
Odysseus turned his attention from the teacher to the blackboard, eyeing the drawing of a large tower dotted with clouds, lightning, trees, oceans, and various creatures that clung onto it.
“Has… anyone ever made it to the end?”
“No.”
Disconcerting news to say the least. Odysseus inwardly frowned.
“Then… whats the point? Why bother? Why go through all this trouble?”
“For a wish.” Chiron replied, his green eyes hyper-focused on the teen-soon to be a man.
“A wish?”
“Yes. Many enter the tower seeking fame, fortune, power, and for some… escape from the dreary lives of their home realm. Here, one can uncover the truths of the universe, conjure flames to dance in their palms or wage glorious battles for treasure and wealth. The tower offers all these things and more.” Chiron explained, the blackboard drawing images of various men and women wielding unnatural powers as they battled each other for dominance. “And at the end of this, to the victor the spoils.”
As Odysseus listened intently, he was suddenly beset with another vision, this time of the man with blue eyes. He was covered in blood, standing in a sea of corpses under a red sun. The man was injured, his eyes soulless, staring blankly with tears parting the soot that covered his face as he held a child’s broken body in his arms.
A coldness washed over Odysseus, a feeling that made the hairs on his back stand on end and his heart pound.
“What… do the gods get out of this?” Odysseus asked, causing Chiron to raise a bushy brow.
“A good question.” Chiron nodded his head before looking off to the side at a clock on the wall. “Entertainment.”
“En… entertainment?” Odysseus repeated, aghast.
“Is the excuse. The reality of it is that the gods gain power and strength as their champions grow. The more you rise, so too does the strength of your patron.”
“Does that mean I’m supposed to fight other champions?”
“That is entirely up to you and how you go about clearing the floors.” Chiron said as Claire entered, the red-haired woman bringing a bowl of soup on a tray. “Thank you Claire. Claire here is one such champion who will be leaving to embark on her own journey in a couple of days.”
Claire smirked. “So who is your patron?”
“You first.” Odysseus replied staring at the red-haired archer.
“Artemis, now fess up.”
“Nike.” Odysseus lied with Chiron smiling lightly.
“Thank you Claire, would you leave us please.”
“Sure thing.” The woman said, walking out.
Chiron and Odysseus waited until the woman was gone, her footsteps echoing with the sound of a door closing reaching their ears a moment later.
“Good, you’re quick on the uptake. There may be hope for you yet.” Chiron said. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”
Odysseus paused, taking a moment to think.
“Yes, who are you really? What is your role here? Why is our time together limited? WHy only seven days?” Odysseus asked.
“I am an immortal, one of many cursed to reside in these woods, to be the first face many a would-be champion sees. A crutch for the unprepared, a mercy from the gods against the horrors you’ll one day face.” Chiron replied, standing from his desk to walk around Odysseus. “My purpose is to aid you. To educate you. The only truly friendly face you’ll see with no ulterior motive other than your survival. That is my burden. For seven days and seven nights, I will train you. Impart my wisdom to you, and answer any question you shall have."
A bronze hourglass filled with grains appeared on Odysseus's desk, slowly dripping down.
"And when that time runs out, whether you take my wisdom or discard it, it will be up to you to decide the course of your fate."
Odysseus narrowed his eyes, his gaze staring at the grains rapidly pooling at the bottom of the tool. “When do we begin?”
“Now.” Chiron replied, the classroom peeling away, the illusion distorting to create a large sand pit with the old teacher and Odysseus standing across from one another.