Chapter 54
Could I really win?
Atalanta narrowed her eyes. The weather was unnaturally perfect, likely due to a certain Sun God's favor. Not a single cloud marred the sky, and the glaring sunlight etched the sun's sigil onto Cyd's right arm. There was no doubt—Cyd was operating at full capacity.
"Are you angry?" Cyd asked softly, standing beside her.
"I don't know," Atalanta replied, her tone flat.
Iasos wisely refrained from giving the starting signal. He was no hero, but he had enough sense to see the truth. The speed Cyd had just displayed was beyond Atalanta's reach. His shout was meaningless now. The race would end the moment one of them decided to move.
The crowd held its breath, watching the two figures on the track.
"Lady Artemis told me about this trial you agreed to," Cyd said, scratching his cheek.
So that's why you came.
I knew it…
Atalanta lowered her gaze.
Of course you wouldn't involve yourself in someone else's mess willingly. It was for the blessing, wasn't it?
Was I wrong? She had agreed to this farce of a trial with a heart she herself didn't understand. As a devout follower of Artemis, sworn to eternal maidenhood and free from marriage, she had said yes with baffling ease.
Why was she so unmoored? She should be focused solely on the finish line, yet here she stood, paralyzed.
A strange, unfamiliar sensation spread through her chest. Was it anger? Too soft. Joy? Then why this bitter ache?
Why wasn't she furious? Cyd hadn't come for her.
Why wasn't she relieved? For the same reason.
Why couldn't she just do something? Grab Cyd by the collar and scream, or bury her face in his chest and weep. Either might dispel this hollow pain. So why was she frozen?
Was this… her punishment?
"Hey now, this isn't like you. You look like you're about to cry." Cyd reached out and ruffled her hair roughly. "A hunter never shows such eyes. You'll scare the prey away."
"Right now, I don't even know who or what I'm supposed to be hunting," Atalanta murmured. She didn't swat his hand away as she usually would. This uncharacteristic submission set off alarms in Cyd's mind.
The usual Atalanta was a bristling wildcat—offer kindness, get a tail lash; try to smooth her fur, get bitten. This Atalanta was like a placid housecat, docile even if picked up and manhandled. Better not test that theory…
"I'll be pissed if you hold back," Cyd frowned.
"I won't." Her eyes sharpened, a flicker of the familiar fire returning.
"Good." Cyd pointed toward the distant finish line. "Then use action to clear the fog in your heart. Stagnating at the starting line gets you nothing. Take a step forward. Maybe your heart has already decided what comes next."
"You make it sound so simple…" Atalanta crouched low, muscles coiling like springs. "What would you know about it?"
"Heh. It wasn't simple for me to make up my mind and come here of my own will," Cyd shrugged, a wry smile touching his lips. "But it's time to end this."
Before Atalanta could process his words, Cyd tossed a small stone high into the air.
Crack.
The pebble hit the earth.
They launched forward as one.
Atalanta's style was to yield the initial lead, then overtake with devastating speed—a testament to her supreme confidence. But against Cyd, that confidence was ash. If she didn't pour every ounce of strength into the first stride, she wouldn't even have the privilege of the chase.
She pushed her body to its absolute limit, the world blurring into streaks of color. Yet, Cyd's back only grew more distant with each thunderous heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Wait! Don't leave me behind!
If she screamed it, he would stop. She knew he would. But that wouldn't be her.
Yet… this was likely Atalanta's final chance.
Driven by an impulse she couldn't name, her hand shot out, fingers straining to brush the fabric of his chiton. It was futile. The gap, widened by her own moment of hesitation, was now an unbridgeable chasm. She had lost even the chance to touch him.
CRUNCH-BOOM!
Cyd crossed the line and drove his heels into the ground, carving twin trenches in the earth as he skidded to a halt, stone and dirt spraying in his wake.
Atalanta stumbled past the mark a fraction of a second later, her magnificent momentum betraying her. Her legs tangled, and she crashed to the hard-packed earth in a graceless heap. She had run the fastest race of her life. And it wasn't enough.
She had lost.
Just as she'd known she would.
"Hey, Atalanta, are you al—" Cyd's question died as he reached for her. His outstretched hand froze mid-air.
She was looking up at him, and the storm in her green eyes stole his breath. Triumph, for his victory. Sorrow, for her own. Bitter frustration. A twisted sort of contentment. It was all there, swirling in a painful, beautiful contradiction. Cyd's jaw tightened. His open hand slowly clenched into a fist and fell back to his side.
"Rejoice! A victor is crowned! The Pure White Hero wins!" Iasos boomed, arms spread wide to the crowd.
"OOOOOHHHH!!!" The stadium erupted. It had happened too fast for them to truly follow—a blur of motion, then it was over. The details didn't matter. Cyd had won. That was cause for celebration.
Of course. No one wanted me to win. You are the hero everyone hopes for.
Atalanta's head dropped, a bitter smile touching her lips. Her pride would normally never allow her to remain in such a defeated posture. But did anyone here truly wish to see her stand?
The life of the hunter, Atalanta… it ends here. It's time to accept reality.
Cyd watched her, his own nails biting deep into his palms. This wasn't the result he wanted. He'd been prepared for her fiery temper—for her to snap, shout, maybe even try to bite him again, like after their previous contests. But this… this silence?
What is this? Why are you making that face?
If you're angry, then rage! If you're happy, then smile! Why are you sitting there, silent? Why did I even come here?!
"Hey…" Cyd closed his eyes, took a breath that did nothing to calm the turmoil inside, and opened them again. "Atalanta… are you happy?"
"I don't know." Her voice was small, fragile—a girl's, not a hunter's. "I don't… know anything anymore."
"Yeah. I know." Cyd pressed a hand to his forehead, his white hair slipping through his fingers. The emerald crystal set in his jade bracer glowed with a faint, steady light.
The Blessing of Hermes. No one could lie to Cyd. And her words were the absolute truth.
She was being tormented by her own confusion.
All I wanted was for you to live true to yourself.
That's all I…