Atreus's POV
Leta was out before she could be put on a gurney and strapped in for the 212-kilometer flight to Larissa.
On one side, Atreus sat with his hands crossed, his eyes watching the slow rise and fall of Leta’s chest, ready to jump into action should she stop breathing.
On the other side sat Allister and Bonnie, the large wolf choosing to sit on the ground with its head propped on her gurney, whining sadly at the state of its friend.
Near Allister, De Mar looked pale and sickly, a large padded bandage now covering the wound above his hip. His two assistants were sprawled out beside him, their eyes closed and snoring loudly. It was almost as if the adrenaline and stress of the night had taken its toll, leaving them utterly drained.
Hayato sat between Atreus and the internal auxiliary fuel tank. At first glance, his motionless posture and even breathing suggested he was meditating.
Atreus cast a sidelong glance and saw Hayato quietly gazing down at Leta’s serene face. His thumb moved in small, protective circles over the hilt of his dagger, as if ready to defend her rest against any intrusion.
He had to admit, she’d been through hell and back tonight.
The Healer had hovered anxiously over her, his face etched with worry at her battered state. He’d been close to hysteria at the notion that he couldn’t mend Leta’s wounds until they explained that she possessed an extraordinary capacity for self-healing and that excessive magical healing might actually interfere with her body’s own restorative processes.
They didn’t know if that was true, but it was all they could do at the time to push him away.
Looking down, Atreus saw a church and several houses engulfed in flames in a forested valley, surrounded by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. From their vantage point, the water sputtering from a fire hose looked like a tiny sprinkler, but his attention was drawn to the dramatic collapse of an onion dome atop the burning church, which sent sparks and flames billowing into the night sky.
He recognized that dome. That courtyard. The homes and outbuildings surrounding their monastery.
“Allister,” Atreus breathed, his voice laced with pain as they gazed down at the devastation below. Even De Mar, weary and injured, strained to turn his head, a harsh exhale escaping his lungs as he took in the scene of fire and ruin. Only Hayato remained unmoved, his gaze fixed forward as he kept watch. He knew what he would see.
“It’s all gone,” Allister exhaled, his voice barely a whisper, as they watched the smoke-filled landscape where their Sect home once stood shrink into the distance.
Centuries before they took ownership of the facility, it had stood as a place of worship and quiet reflection, offering the pious a place of shelter through many tumultuous times.
For the last one hundred years, it had been the home of dozens of Chosen as they crusaded against the Blessed, striving to make a difference in a land that constantly seemed to be ripping itself apart.
In the span of a few hours, all that history had been lost.
The fresco painted by former monks where they broke bread as a Sect, the hand carved arches from its time under ottoman rule, and the courtyard that had been the heart of their group - it was all destroyed.
Atreus found a lump forming in his throat as he blinked away the sting in his eyes.
He’d learned never to get too attached to a place. Either he had to move to keep their Chosen activity a secret or for political changes in the country he was in.
This was the first time he’d been forced to leave due to an attack by the Blessed.
In truth, he’d become attached to this Sect - this land.
Not only was this his second Sect in command, but it was his birthplace.
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The buildings had changed, and the government was completely different, but this was his home.
It felt like a violation that the Blessed would attack here.
Gritting his teeth, he pulled the walkie-talkie from its clip and brought it to his lips.
“Alpha to Fearless. Alpha to Fearless. Come in.”
He’d been trying to reach the rest of his team using their call signs, but so far, all he’d gotten back was static silence.
“Alpha to Patch. Alpha to Patch. Come in.”
“Alpha to Rumor. Come in, Rumor.”
“Alpha to Cinder. Alpha to Cinder. Where are you?”
“Alpha to Legend. Come in.”
When his comm crackled with nothing but static, Atreus drew a deep breath, leaned his head against the side of the aircraft, and looked back at Leta.
She radiated heat, her skin slick with sweat as if fighting off a powerful illness, but her appearance was eerily reminiscent of that first night after she had called down the storm and killed the minotaur.
Her body had thinned noticeably in the last few minutes, the magic that fueled her powers clearly consuming vast amounts of energy to mend her wounds..
Atreus winced as he looked back down at the hole in her stomach.
In a very morbid way, it was fascinating to watch tiny sinews of muscle weaving themselves back together as the skin slowly closed around it. What had once been a gaping wound a hand’s length wide had been reduced to roughly twelve centimeters.
He had no idea how she was going to conjure up a new hand, but if the strange wriggling near her wrist was any indication, she’d find a way.
“Oh, no, Bonnie. Donna lick it.” Allister grimaced as Bonnie licked at Leta’s prone forearm - the same forearm that was missing a hand - and looked like worms were moving around at the base.
Morbidly fascinating.
Still made his stomach turn.
“That there is unnatural, it is.” The giant huffed as he watched new bones begin to stretch at a snail’s pace from the stump.
Atreus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, well. As Leta would say, ‘add it to the list.’”
“Aye, that she would.” Allister returned the humor, though his eyebrows soon pinched in worry.
“What was that back there, Atreus? Some new devilry cooked up by the Blessed?”
Atreus sighed and looked out the window. The Voutima Avlonas Wildlife Sanctuary below was shrouded in complete darkness, with only the scattered lights of distant farms and the dense, unbroken canopy of forests visible for miles around.
They were less than a quarter of the way to their destination, yet it felt as if they had been airborne for hours. The endless flight gave Atreus ample time for his thoughts to wander, and doubts began to creep into his mind.
He tried to recall anything in his studies of the Arisen histories, but couldn’t think of anything that would explain what they’d come up against.
It was Hayato who spoke up. “Something terrible. A true poison that burns from the inside out till all that is left is ash on the wind.”
De Mar shifted in his seat and winced in pain. “I thought it was an artifact, but it didn’t act like one I’d ever seen. Most artifacts enhance the user, not kill them.”
“Is no one going to bring up the fact that anyone who got hit with those arrows turned into ash like when the lass absorbs a victim?” Allister raised an eyebrow, his gaze looking at everyone as if challenging them to say otherwise.
Atreus was about to answer, but movement from the cockpit got their attention as Mic made his way back to them.
“Reports show the North Euboean Gulf is clear. We’ll be over it soon.”
Atreus asked, “Any word from my team?”
Mic shook his head, his lips tight in regret. “Nothing yet, but a lot of cell service is down from the attack and satellites are being unresponsive. ”
He watched a muscle tic in Atreus’s jaw as he ground his teeth before the General nodded his thanks.
“Atreus.” Mic got his attention. “Your girl’s little show is on the Mundane news. The different videos between the sudden tornado and the giant lightning strike have people terrified. France and the United States think it’s a new weapon, and now they’re very, very interested in what’s going on in Greece.”
Atreus cursed.
Ever since the attack on the hospital, the eyes of the world had been keeping Greece in their peripheral vision - something that would be a hindrance in their attempts to keep the Blessed population low.
As a NATO and European Union ally, Greece would find a lot of support from dozens of countries, most likely getting additional military aid from larger militarys.
On the other hand, Costez’s militarized government had been purchasing arms through arms dealers in Libya and Algeria. From his experience, this would put more pressure on those countries once it became public to act - possibly in the negative.
It was also possible that Turkey, while still a NATO ally, could withdraw to support Costez due to the history between Turkey and Greece.
As with most great acts of violence against a country, the first several hours would be full of confusion and chaos as news media, governments, and the public tried to piece together what was happening.
He’d seen this before when he’d led his first Sect.
He’d been in Norway when World War I, the last Blessed-initiated war, broke out. Though he hadn’t been on the battlefield, he’d been navigating a cloak-and-dagger game against the Blessed using the political landscape of the Scandinavian countries as their chessboard.
He’d lost the game in World War II when the Axis powers invaded Norway - one that had pushed him into the underground, aiding resistance movements and pushing local leaders to resist and educate themselves on who their occupiers were.
And he’d succeeded to a large extent.
His first Sect had succeeded in swaying the public’s opinion away from antisemitism, but by the time he was moved to Athens, the individuality and neutrality had begun to shift towards corporatism in the following years.
This war was going to be different.