Dyonaigus whipped his head around to see his mother rushing down the street. At first, he smiled, but then he saw her face and the worry plastered across it. Her black hair tossed around as she ran. The bells punctuating every step she took.

“Dyo! Come inside quickly now. I-I need to tell you something.” She panted, her breath slightly ragged.

“T-The bells-“

“It’s about them, so come quick!”

He nodded, quickly glancing behind at Faustus, “Go lad, I’ll be fine here.”

He swallowed then turned, quickly following behind his mother.

The streets however were slowly starting to come alive. And not in the usual way of people chatting and leaning against buildings as they took a break from their labour. Instead, it was with still hungover men and women rushing to get everything into their houses and slamming the latches onto their doors. Some more mobile people however were gathering their things and getting ready to move, with packs over their shoulders and quickly marching out of town.

His mother slammed the door closed behind them, leaving them alone in the dim room. Salonia rushed to the chest and threw it open.

“W- Whats this about? Are we in danger!?” He asked carefully.

Salonia’s wobbling grey eyes looked at him, growing slightly wet as she started to speak, “A messenger came this morning to the elder and… And they said that the prince is taking an issue with the cult across the city-state. S-so he’s sending his soldiers around to break them up in the state without the republican senate’s approval. They’re coming and nothing is going to help us until they are long gone.”

His eyes widened as his heart stopped for a moment, “T-Troops!? W-why!?”

“You know that most of the higher families don’t like your father’s followers, they hate the mysteries! And we live in one of the princedoms, so-“

“So, they can just… Do this…”

“Yes. And there won’t be anywhere to hide here.” She said, her voice growing tight as she sorted out packs and bottles on the floor. Her pace not letting up.

“S-so are we leaving?”

“You’re leaving. I… I can’t go, I won’t be able to keep pace.”

He felt his spit get caught in his throat as his eyes grew slightly blurry, “B-But-“ He stammered.

“I’ll be okay, alright? Nobody knows I’m your mother outside of here, alright? They’re just going to stop us from worshipping so if I lay low, I’ll be okay. Got it?”

He nodded, but he wasn’t sure in his heart as he took the bag with his mother before she rushed upstairs for his clothes.

He wasn’t sure if it would all be okay when she came down and piled all of them into his bag, all nicely folded. Stuffing bags of supplies and pushing a small pouch of coins into his hands.

By the time it was finished tears were flowing down the corner of his eyes.

And his mother couldn’t hide it either, “Look, I’ll be here whenever you want to come back, okay? Just you’ve gotta go for now. Explore the world while you’re out for me and for yourself darling. You can handle yourself. Your father… He’ll come to you if you really need it.”

“Mum-“

“I know, I know… Be safe, okay? I want to see you again someday in one piece. But don’t worry about taking your time, I’ve got a few decades yet to go.” She chuckled through streaming eyes.

“I-I won’t.”

“Go then, have fun and I’ll try to be safe.”

He swallowed, “G-goodbye, I- I love you.”

“You too.”

His head shook slightly as he tried to keep his jaw steady, slinging his pack over his shoulder and turning to go.

Before he then felt a rough spun cloak get draped over him.

“Don’t let anyone see your horns as you go.”

He spun around, giving his mother a hug before pulling back and pulling the cloak tightly around himself. Then he rushed out of the door, not wanting to spend any second longer in front of his mother where he could break down and spoil her image of him.

The sound of his feet pounding against the floor echoed down the street as he ran. The bells still ringing as the sounds of chaos and panic rose across the small village. Friendly faces passed by as he ran down those small streets. He ran, and ran, even as he exited out of the village and started descending down the hill. The dull flashes of armour visible far out in the distance right in the corner of his eye before they disappeared under the crest of the hill.

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His pace grew more measured as even his semi-divine lungs reached their limits. The pleasant warm morning air started to burn as he gulped it down. Eventually leaving him slowly trudging along the dirt road southwest, panting and looking behind himself constantly. The sound of those bells still sounding in the distance, its dread-filled chimes calling out their messages of doom.

All until he finally reached the end of the farms and vineyards of the village, with the forest now the one stretching outwards. He took a moment to compose himself, his eyes darting all around. He took a deep breath, then stepped off of the road and started trudging along the undergrowth at the side of it. The number one rule he remembered of trying to sneak around people who might want to stab him, was to stay away from the road itself. Though moving too far away would leave him lost, possibly for days.

And as he walked, he started to think. He started to think of the inherent contradictions of having hereditary princes be the governors of states within a democratic republic. He started to think about how this wasn’t the first time the prince had done something that outstripped the limited powers given to him by the senate. Things that he should have only been able to do after going to it in person to petition them. He started to think about how stupid it was that all of this could happen, all the damage that could be wrought before the local legion got word and decided to intervene to stop the prince and the state troops.

This entire flood of emotions and thoughts running through his mind caused his vision to blur as his senses dulled. Almost to the point that he did not see the group of three soldiers marching along the road. They were a fair way further along it and marching in the same direction he was, checking each side of the road with their spears. Blue and green surcoats over their chests contrasting with the browns and mossy greens of the forest.

Their colours, spears, mail shirts, kettle helms and large scutum shields all marked them out as state Circuitusati. Professional regional troops that were not like the average city watch from other countries.

He crouched, slowly moving behind a tree as he watched them with his bright eyes. They didn’t seem to be aware of him so far at least. But he could only assume this was some sort of patrol set out to catch escapees like himself. So, he’d have to step carefully. After all, they’d be turning around at some point so staying put would not work.

Slowly edging up behind them and moving a little to the left to keep himself out of view should do the trick…. He had magic though! He was a god’s son, so he could maybe even-

No.

He didn’t quite know the extent of his powers yet, but he knew a couple of the things he could do through experiments when helping to defend the village from wild animals. But one time he’d tried it on a person who wanted to be “touched” by divine power.

They had forgotten that his blood was that of the god of madness.

So, when he had tried to give them a vision of a festival, they were instead turned into a babbling wreck, screaming of unseen horrors. He'd shut himself up for a week until his mother finally coaxed him outside, telling him it was not his fault...

He’d just have to try doing it the conventional way with his plan.

He crept closer and closer to the band of Circuitusati, keeping himself inside of the thick undergrowth and making sure not to rustle the branches too much.

But then it stopped. A small gap appearing between him and the next set of bushes and tree saplings. There was no other way around it that wouldn’t leave him in view of the troops or drive him too far off of the road to get lost.

He went for it.

He stumbled, barely keeping his balance but raising his posture up in the process and filling the air with a dull thump.

A soldier whipped around, his eyes locking onto Dyonaigus as he brought his shield and spear to bear.

“You! Stand up, now!” The soldier barked, the others whipping around.

Dyonaigus swallowed but ultimately did what he was told, slowly standing up to his full height.

“Pull that hood down, now! What have you got under there!?”

He didn’t say anything.

The soldier moved forwards, stepping into the undergrowth, “Do it! Now!”

He raised his shaky hands to his hood, slowly pulling it down.

All of the soldiers’ eyes went wide. Nobody knowing what to do for a second.

“I-Is he a satyr!?” one of the other soldiers murmured.

“No, he doesn’t have the legs… He’s-“

“You’re coming with us!” The closest soldier barked, his spear held firm despite the fear slowly growing in his eyes.

Dyonaigus’s heart was pounding fast now as adrenaline clouded his system. Thoughts going back to a time he was cornered by wolves in one of their attacks. The way that he concentrated at them and let his power flow-

He noticed the front soldier start to step closer, time for him to react quickly draining away.

So, he focused on all three of the soldiers and let his magic go. He had no other choice.

Instantly the front man stopped, all of the soldiers tensing up as their hands dropped their weapons. One of the men at the back even dropped their shield as both hands went to their throat.

The front one continued to stare at him, as Dyonaigus maintained his concentration, keeping the magic flowing as the soldiers started to gargle and choke. His fear taking over his mind to get the soldiers to just stop.

They dropped to the floor, writhing in pain as their eyes looked at him pleading for mercy as they felt it inside of them. Felt it growing and writhing around inside of their throat, their lungs, their veins...

The front one tried to scream but couldn’t. Instead, blood dribbled out as a set of thorny briars creped out of his mouth. Scraps of bloodied flesh impaled on its thorns from it tearing the man’s throat and mouth wide.

The others soon felt vines inside of them creep out of them, pushing out of their mouths and noses as well. Cutting and ripping their insides as they grew. All of them falling dead to the ground one by one. Their bodies reduced to naught but fertiliser for the still-growing plants.

Slowly, he released his concentration as the adrenaline faded. Leaving his mind to fully register the horror he had created.

For gods are rarely a representation or patron of one thing and have several aspects. And Calsyniacus had providence over all fruit-baring plants, a power passed onto his son.

Dyonaigus gagged, trying not to throw up as he slowly creped towards the soldier’s lifeless bodies. The acid welling at the bottom of his throat.

He could almost feel those vines in himself, ripping his lungs apart as he tried to pry his eyes away from the briars. He stretched out a shaky hand, taking their purses and wineskins, along with anything else he could carry and find without having to dwell too long on their faces. He even took one of their belts off with a gladius in its sheath. Everything he’d need to make the trek to the port, where he would surely find a boat out to the mainland of the republic.

He then left, trying to forget the sight of those still-growing vines and get as far away as possible from the men he had murdered.