Sliding through the halls in my slippers I rush past the offices of my father’s coworkers, watching as they shake their heads and laugh to themselves. It wasn’t a normal day in the office I wasn’t up to something strange. “Hi Linda!” I say quickly as I rush past my father's secretary.
“Yes, he’s in his office,” she shakes her head and chuckles but her eyes stay glued to the work on her desk.
“I have an idea!” I barge into my father's office in my pajamas with a tattered notebook in my hand. I plop the notebook down in front of him to display my unintelligible scribblings. Just no realizing that although they make sense to me, they may not make much sense to an English-speaking human.
He looks at the pages and then smiles up at me, “Excellent work sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes, “Alright smartass! I DO have an idea though!” I sit down in one of the luxurious chairs in front of his desk, and cross my legs as I readjust my loose pony tail.
He puts his pen down and clasps his fingers together, “Alright.”
“So the city the heart of Novus we’ve been talking about?”
“Uh huh.”
“You said the psychologist... they think people will need a symbol or something? Someone to rally the people and such?”
“Yes.”
“Well! So maybe I thought like a king or a queen or something?”
“But-”
“But!” I interrupt him and put my hands up in surrender. “Monarchs, presidents, dictators, psychopaths, and such are the main cause of the uh... current state of the world soooo that’s a no no.”
He laughs and crosses his arms across his chest, “right.”
“So! What if there is like this test? That would challenge someone physically, mentally, and emotionally. A test that psychological tests a person to prove they have the traits of the ideal...” I stop to make air quotes with my fingers, “king slash queen.”
He begins to rub his chin in intrigue, “go on.”
“It would happen every five years, and not one person can be reelected. There will also be a counsel! That can dethrone said king slash queen in case they go insane,” the excitement in my voice was out of place for the subject. But this game had been my everything, my baby, and now the whole world was going to see it. People were literally going to live it!
Everything HAD to perfect.
“But!” I put on finger in the air.
“But,” he smiles at me lovingly.
“Anyone can enter!”
“Anyone?” he raises his eyebrows.
“Yes! You could be from the Kaishi Slums or the Islands of Mirari and still be king... slash queen of Nescius!” I stand up in my chair and pose heroically in front of him.
He beams up at me and picks up his pen again, “I like it.”
“You do?” I lower myself down into the chair. I had spent weeks fighting the founders on the aspect of Novus. Nescius had always been special to me, it was the heart of it all, I always felt as though I had to make it extravagant in some way or another. When my father approached me with the idea to turn my virtual reality into the only reality some people would know, I was so excited I didn’t realize how it might no longer be my own. I found myself constantly defending my own ideas and it was beyond frustrating.
But my father was always on my side at the end of it all, he always believed in my vision.
“Yes,” he says as he shoves my notebook to the side. “I love it actually,” he smiles as he begins to resume his work that I had interrupted.
“Sooo... we can do it!” I say excitedly my voice much louder than it needs to be.
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“Not so fast,” he looks up at me. “You will need to thoroughly plan out these games and present it to the Founders and it will go up for a vote.”
“But Dad!” I drag out he word dramatically.
“But nothing sweetheart,” he says sternly.
My face frowns and I slouch in the chair, leaning back like I’ve been mortally wounded.
My father places his pen down, and gets up from his seat to sit on his desk in front of me. “You know that I believe in every idea in your miraculous little head,” he embraces my face gently. “But this isn’t just about us anymore. These people... this team... we want a better world.”
I smile reluctantly, “I know I know...”
He stands up and heads over to the wall of books on the left side of his office, in the center there is an expensive bottle of scotch and crystal glasses. All placed underneath a framed picture, it’s a picture of our family. Of my mother before she died in a bombing. My father beams down at her affectionately as she clutches me in her arms. I was only eight years old, we both smile at the camera in my mother's hands as she plants a kiss on the top of my head. I feel a familiar twinge in my heart as I look at her beautiful face, and watch as my father stares at the photo longingly.
He had never moved on after her, she was the love of his life.
“I miss her too,” I say lowly.
He doesn’t say anything, just places his hands in his pockets, and turns to look at me slightly. A smile creeping at the corners of his lips, but it is sullied with the pain from his broken heart. He breathes deeply and then heads back towards his desk, sitting down in his leather chair slowly. I notice that his eyes are slightly glassy, but I don’t point it out. Just offer a warm smile though the pain in my own chest.
After a long silence, I get up from my chair a sit in his lap as I wrap my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around me and plants a kiss on my cheek. Rounding up all the work on his desk, he pushed it aside and pulls a fresh notebook out from one of his desk drawers. He moves his arm from around me and opens the notebook on his desk, the blank page taunting me.
“Now,” he begins. “Did you have an idea for the first task?”
“Well!” I throw my hands up. “I was thinking... The Nemean Lion... well a nemean lion.”
He raises and eyebrow at me in response.
“One of the Heracles twelve challenge thingys?” I’m surprised that a scientist could be so clueless sometimes.
He leans back in his chair and puts his hands up in an “I don’t know” fashion.
“Heracles?”
“Hercules?”
“No!” my voice is annoyed. “Heracles is the real Hercules. The Romans just copied everything and changed their names sooo unoriginal.”
He laughs, “Go on.”
“Well... Heracles kind of fucked up and murdered his wife and child,” I begin.
My father's eyes widen, “Oh?”
“Yeah! So,” I continue unphased by the grim factor of this story. Mythology wasn’t really kind, but it always taught a lesson in the most mysterious way. It had always fascinated me. “In attempt to atone for his crime, he was presented with twelve challenges.”
My father nods in response and listens intently.
“Soooo either the first... or at least one of the earlier tasks is the Nemean Lion. A lion with impenetrable skin,” I say dramatically.
“So the physical test?” he offers.
“Yes and no... if the lion's skin cannot be penetrated by weapons than in order to beat it you will have to be pretty clever right?” I say as I stand up from his lap.
“Right,” he nods agreeably. “I think it’s excellent,” he smiles.
“Really?” I squeal. No matter how much I loved and idea, it had no validity until it had my father's approval.
“Yes,” he laughs. “Now is this the only task you’ve come up with?”
“Yes...” I say in a small voice. “But!”
“But,” he responds.
“I was hoping some people in psychology might be able to help me with a mental task?” I suggest.
He doesn’t answer immediately but smiles at me adoringly, “I think that’s and excellent idea.”
“Really?” I say as I sit in the seat in front of his desk again.
“Really,” he grins.
A tear falls down my cheek as this lovely memory fills my head, the ache in my heart growing deeper with each image of his handsome face. Omni was so sneaky, I had asked for the restoration of essential information, and little did I know is that he was essential information.
Ozzy approached from the direction in which Kenai and Arachne were squealing about the epic stadium in front of us. The guards had let us into the box which was reserved for the current monarch to enjoy the games bellow. The palace was alive with energy as everyone had already begun preparations, the glass doors acting as a divider between us and the excitement of the busy servant. Seeing the arena empty life this was almost peaceful, it hadn’t seen a good fight and nearly a century and it showed. I had modeled it after the infamous Colosseum, reborn in elegant white marble and gold. The pace of Ozzy’s steps slowed as he noticed the look on my face, “Thyia are you-”.
“I’m fine,” I respond as I wipe my face.
He stands next to me awkwardly, unable to find and organic position for his hands. “I uh...”
I look at him and force a smile, “It’s okay.” Something tells me he wasn’t buying it, but he is kind enough not to pry any further. I chose to bury my grief deep within myself where it belonged, plus it was just seemed easier and less painful to not talk about it at all.
Sort of.
There was a long silence as I felt his intense gaze on my face, causing goosebumps to raise across my skin. He cleared his throat as he took another slow step towards me, intruding my view of the arena below. “So,” he begins with a goofy smile. “What’s the first task again... it’s been so long.”
“The Nemean Lion,” I smile to myself as I stare at the deserted arena below.