16 - Beginning’s End
The sun began sinking into the horizon after a long day of tormenting Ándras with its heat. By looking at his pinkish face, it was easy to tell that it had succeeded at causing him pain, even if the majority of it would come later.
After an entire day’s worth of navigating around a wasteland, Ándas and Voós had managed to make it to the edge of Ftochós with the only inconveniences being the sun and the soil storm, which had only started to shrink by the time the two had passed it.
Before the city limits were beneath their feet, Voós suddenly stopped. “While I’m here, I intend to take a look around. Meet me back at this exact spot around when the sun completely sets. Maybe around six or seven on the clock tower,” Voós explained.
Ándras figured this meant he’d be doing something work related. “Okay, but please leave the soldiers alone. They should be housed in the bar Skyla told you about,” he hinted, not wanting his former men to face any harm.
Voós simply nodded and entered the outskirts of the city. Deciding that he should probably mind his own business, Ándras quickly began jogging towards main street. Despite not knowing his way around the outskirts, he was able to locate main fairly quickly and began following it to the market district.
Despite the disaster that had occurred only a day prior, the stores were bustling with customers and workers alike. There were small signs of the previous day’s peril scattered around in the shadows, though, from what he could see, the largest of them had already been fixed.
‘How’d they rebuild so quickly? And how was the trypa patched,’ Ándas pondered, a feeling that something had gone awry forming in his gut. But he had other matters to attend to at the moment. Plus, Voós was there, and Ándras doubted it was just to escort him. He’d likely find out what happened, so Ándras could just ask him later.
It wasn’t long before the surroundings grew more familiar, and the noise started to die down. Soon enough, Ándras spotted a familiar looking alley and walked into it while taking a small glance behind himself just to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He also tightly pulled the hood he had been given that morning to protect his scalp from the sun. While it did work for its initial purpose, it also served as a way to hide his identity.
His heart began beating faster as he grew closer to his abode, the wooden pillars in front of his house seemingly beckoning him inside. Not being able to bear walking anymore, he broke into a run, then a sprint.
The door to his house was open. No matter how Ándras tried to look at it, there was no way this was a good sign. “Mother, are you in there,” he yelled as he pushed his way into the kitchen.
The house was oddly quiet. Even without Fíle making a racket, Mother always gave herself stuff to do, even if it could easily be done by one of the boys. “Mother,” he repeated as he glimpsed into the room that Fíle should have been in. However, instead of his brother, only his blanket sat on his bed in shambles. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” Ándras muttered to himself as details of Voós’s tale ran back through his head.
Full of fear, Ándras sprinted to his mother’s room only to be met with nothing. Literally. Not only was she nowhere to be found, but her bed, the only piece of furniture she allowed herself to have, had simply vanished into nothingness.
Ándas broke down into tears, his knees giving out beneath him. “Mother! Mother, where are you?! I’m sorry for running away, just please…! Come back!”
However, his desperate pleas fell on uncaring ears. No matter how long he sat there with his head in his hands desperately whimpering for this nightmare to end, his mother didn’t come back. Eventually, as his head buzzed from crying, he took a glimpse out of the window, noticing that the sun had nearly completely vanished from the sky.
“Voós,” he whimpered to himself. The same damn thing that happened to that poor old man had happened to him. Where did his mother go? Olympus? Or had the gods thrown her somewhere else? Or maybe…
The description of Voós’s experience after using his blessing chimed through his mind like a bell of despair, causing him to throw up on the spot. Could the gods have really…? To his mother?
Bile erupted from Ándras’s throat again and again as the possibility settled into his mind. It was rumored that the gods could see everything from their home in Olympus, so perhaps they had seen Droserós give Ándas his speech and had simply punished him for hearing such blasphemy. Or maybe… Could they have punished him for learning the truth?
Ándras felt his insides freeze as his mind processed his theory. Under normal circumstances, wouldn’t the gods have simply smitten him? Or maybe they didn’t feel the need. After all, who would believe him? He doubted even Megálo, his best friend, would be able to even consider a word of any of what he had learned.
Then what of Fíle? And all other furniture aside from his mother’s bed? The fact ran through his head and tried to find a way into his hypothesis. What if Fíle had died before his arrival at the base? Perhaps the gods had simply taken his corpse away to prevent him from getting a proper burial. For the furniture, what if they wanted him to remember his family in order to intensify the pain?
One of the words Droserós used to describe the gods popped up into his head. “Wrathful.” Had the gods done everything they possibly could to fill him with despair?
The ice in Ándras’s gut quickly thawed and was replaced with fire burning hotter than the sun. Those bastards. They had taken everything from him, and for what?! To spite him?! To make him suffer?!
Ándras’s grip tightened harder than he thought possible. He quickly stood up and began to creep out the front door, his reason for being there having already vanished. Ándras slowly stepped out of the house before making his way onto Main Street. Soon enough, the clock tower in the middle of the market entered his vision, the hands signaling that it was currently 7:10.
Hardly worried about being late, Ándras continued to step into the outskirts and eventually found himself back at the spot where he had parted with Voós. After stopping in the general vicinity, a shadow emerged from a nearby building. “I was starting to believe that you had forgotten,” Voós jokingly whispered. “So, have you decided what you are going to do?”
What Ándras was going to do? There was hardly a question. “I am going to kill those motherfuckers.”
…
The path towards the next town was barren, and lit only by the faint light of the celestial bodies. While this made it nearly impossible for Fíle to see anything beyond a meter in front of him, Pierre didn’t seem to be facing any difficulties.
The engine roared throughout the night, preventing Fíle from getting an ounce of sleep. Well, it would have if he hadn’t already resolved himself to stay awake and make sure Aunt Gyn’s health didn’t deteriorate further.
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Around the time the moon reached the apex of its course, Fíle felt the makeshift carriage start to slow down. “Did we make it,” he asked, his fingers digging into the palms of his hands. “Almost,” Pierre grunted as the contraption’s screams began to dull to mild whistles. “I’m quieting the engine down to keep attention off of us. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. How’s your aunt holding up?”
Fíle gently placed his hand against Aunt Gyn’s neck. “She’s cold, but her heartbeat sounds normal right now. Maybe a bit slow, but not abnormal,” he responded. “Keep her blanket wrapped around her. We need to keep her body temperature up,” Pierre insisted.
After making sure Aunt Gyn was wrapped up, Fíle turned his head forward and was barely able to make out a dark outline far off into the distance. “Where are we going, anyway,” he asked. “Mésis. It’s a pretty average town. A bit smaller than yours, but it has better infrastructure,” Pierre explained.
Within minutes, the town of Mésis had tripled in size, causing Fíle’s frayed nerves to begin cooling off. Soon enough, buildings surrounded the two, though it was too dark out for Fíle to tell if they were houses, businesses, or something else.
Pierre suddenly stopped the contraption in front of a slightly larger building before placing what little water remained back into his water skins. “Can you carry her by yourself,” he whispered as he began walking into the building. “Yeah,” Fíle stated while effortlessly balancing the mattress with Aunt Gyn on it on top of his head.
As Pierre opened a door, a small, flickering light caught Fíle’s eye. The candle was small, but it was enough to dimly light the entire reception area. “Welcome, how can we help you today,” the female receptionist yawned. It seemed working the night shift had taken its toll on her.
Pierre cleared his throat. “Good evening ma’am. I just so happened to be in town today, and figured I might as well book myself a room. You wouldn’t, perchance, happen to have one, would you,” Pierre said in a very un-Pierrelike fashion. Sighing, the receptionist stood up and walked beyond a door that sat behind her. “What was that about,” Fíle whispered. However, Pierre remained quiet.
Before Fíle could ask again, the receptionist creaked the door open, a crusty, rusted key in hand. “Here you go, sir,” she scowled as she placed the key in his hand. Without another moment of hesitation, Pierre neatly shuffled through the door the receptionist had entered to grab the key and gently closed the door behind him and Fíle.
“Sorry about that,” he sighed, his entire demeanor returning to normal. “Secret codes and whatnot. Anyway, follow me.” The hallway was made almost entirely out of wood, and was barely lit by a few candles that were spread out in different places. There were doors sprinkled on the walls of the hallway, every last one being poorly carved out of either oak or mahogany, the only metal bits being the locks that sat inside the door handles. After a solid minute of walking, Pierre abruptly stopped and slid the key into a random door on his right. After cracking it open, the room was revealed to be about as small as a closet.
“Try to squeeze her in here,” Pierre said as he pushed himself against the wall to make room. After a few awkward attempts, Fíle managed to somewhat fold the mattress to squeeze Aunt Gyn into the small room without hurting her. After squeezing into the tight space, Fíle noticed a rope hiding in one of the corners of the room as well as some sort of wheel in the other. “Okay, brace yourself,” Pierre suddenly blurted as he shimmied his way over to the rope and began pulling it upward. After a few tugs, the rope seemed to understand what he was trying to do, and began rapidly pulling upward.
To prevent the group from smashing their skulls against the ceiling, Pierre quickly grabbed the rope and loosened his grip on it in loose bursts. “Pretty cool, right? We call it an elevator,” he chuckled as he smirked at Fíle. “Uh, yeah,” Fíle blurted. He was to busy trying to understand how the machine worked to focus on Pierre’s words.
As the machine lowered them further down, Fíle noticed a counter hanging above the door that seemed to steadily move along with the rope. Despite going down, the counter seemed to be increasing. “Ok, we’re here,” Pierre groaned as the counter ticked to four.
As if on queue, the door of the elevator creaked open, revealing a much more interesting hallway. On the floor sat some sort of polished, white rock, and, after a small click floated through Fíle’s ears, light somehow began beaming out of the ceiling. “How is the roof glowing,” Fíle asked, surprise taking full control over his emotions.
“Cool, right? One of the Hephaestus guys built it. It uses that electricity stuff that’s been spreading lately. No idea how they made it though,” Pierre explained, a hint of pride coating his words.
”You mean that was real,” Fíle bellowed. He had heard rumors about this peculiar electricity thing that somehow seemed to do things not even blessings could do, but he had assumed it was all nonsense. In response, Pierre gave a simple nod.
“Try to be quiet if you can. I’d imagine most people are sleeping at the moment. Now, this way,” he muttered as he began walking down the hallway.
Fíle quickly followed Pierre, his eyes more than occasionally wondering across the mechanical marvels that he didn’t think to be possible. “Ok, this room,” Pierre suddenly recommended, snapping Fíle out of his daze. Quickly, as if to hide his previous childlike wonder, Fíle gently shuffled into the room, making extra sure that Aunt Gyn didn’t bump into anything. After another click, the previously dark room was once again filled with light, revealing a bed and a peculiar, cubic device that sat nearby.
“Okay, now put her on this bed,” Pierre uttered as he grabbed a chord connected to the cubic machine and brought it close to Aunt Gyn. At the end of the wire, another unusual looking device that somewhat resembled pincers closed itself around her pointer finger.
“Is this safe,” Fíle gulped. “It should be. They told me that, as long as you don’t touch the metal part of the wire, I’ll be fine,” Pierre explained. “Which part of the wire is metal,” Fíle asked. “No clue, but, seeing as I haven’t died yet, it’s definitely not either of the white things,” Pierre stated with a deadpan tone.
“Now then, they said touch the red thing,” Pierre said as he reached over and fiddled with the cube. Suddenly, the peculiar bulb that sat on top of the cube lit up, causing both of them to flinch. Almost as quickly as it appeared, however, the light disappeared and reappeared again.
“According to them, that’s her heartbeat. So, as long as that thing is beeping, she’s fine. If it stops, apparently a doctor will know somehow,” Pierre proudly exclaimed despite acknowledging his ignorance on the topic. Not knowing how to respond, Fíle
simply leaned against Aunt Gyn’s old mattress, his eyes drooping more by the second.
“Welp, I’m spent. To my knowledge, there aren’t exactly any non-medical beds around here, so I’m gonna go up to neg three for the night. You can just use that mattress,” Pierre confessed as he walked out the door.
Before Fíle could ask any more questions, the lights turned off and the door was slammed in his face, leaving him with nothing but darkness and more questions. However, despite his desire to open the door and get answers, his brain suddenly gained several extra pounds.
‘Well,’ he thought as his head smacked into the mattress, ‘I can always ask tomorrow.’
Before the more stubborn part of Fíle could even argue, he had passed out cold on Aunt Gyn’s old bed.
…
The moon was high in the sky, its light bending in the shape of a crescent. Despite being the hottest area Ándras had ever entered a few hours ago, the wasteland had somehow managed to grow so cold that Ándras could see his own breath.
“If I may,” Voós suddenly spouted, “what did you mean kill those motherfuckers? Did something happen? Something you’d like to talk about?”
Ándras bit his tongue. Should he tell Voós what happened? Eventually, Ándras sighed, his fists clenching. “Later. Let’s focus on walking for now,” he uttered while doing his best to keep his raging emotions to himself.
As the duo shuffled further into the wasteland, Ándras’s thoughts went back to his previous words. ‘I did say I would kill them, but how?’ Perhaps Droserós had an idea? If not, he could always just find out for himself how immortal the gods actually were.
Ándras’s eyes widened at his own thoughts, a burst of self awareness settling over his consciousness. Telling himself he was going to kill the gods. Who did he think he was? ‘I failed to save my own damn family, and yet I think I’m strong enough to kill the gods?’
Ándras bit his lip as his tears grew heavier than his will. Trails of scalding hot anger paved their way down his face unwillingly. “Ándras,” Voós calmly continued, “what happened?”
Ándras broke. “They took my mother and brother! My brother might have died before then, but my mother… she was definitely alive,” Ándras cried, more tears leaking down from his eyes.
Voós’s eyes widened in horror. “Th
ey… oh, no. Ándras, I’m so…” Voós trailed off, the words expressing his sorrow unable to form. Angry at himself for being so pathetic, Ándras bit his lip and forced himself to stop crying. “Enough of this,” he muttered, his tone turning ice cold. “Let’s return quickly.”
Not sure what to do, Voós simply followed him. “So… what are your thoughts? On the offer from Droserós, I mean,” Voós stuttered. Ándras’s fists loosened a bit at the change in subject. “What exactly does the offer entail?”
“Well,” Voós began, “we’ll use the method previously described, causing your latent abilities to come to light and become more potent. If they exist, that is. Imagine your current self like a windy desert. Slowly, overtime, the tempests would push sand out of the way and reveal what is underneath. All we do is use a typhoon instead of small gusts,” Voós explained.
“That’s not what I mean,” Ándras scoffed. “How strong will this method make me?” Voós’s eyes widened at the peculiar remark. “Well, if no complications arise… well, it is somewhat difficult to describe in words. Could you perhaps wait until we return to see a demonstration?”
Ándras sorrowfly sighed. “I guess. However, this better be worth the wait. If it’s not all you’ve cracked it up to me, I’ll be fairly upset,” he stated, causing a small smirk to manifest on Voós’s face. “I can personally guarantee that you won’t be dissapointed. In fact, it’s likely to be more than what your highest expectations speculate.”
Ándras sniffled one last time. “Well then, I suppose we better get back soon,” he stated, a second wind filling his legs. “Indeed,” Voós remarked as he followed Ándras’s footsteps toward the rising moon.