Chapter 68
"I'll come back!"
"You have to wait for me!"
Cyd's shouts echoed off the silent, monolithic walls of Hephaestus's forge complex. He stood with the weight of [Pandora, Reforged] strapped securely to his back, the sleek black box humming with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun.
No answer came from within. Just the eternal, faint roar of the divine fires.
"Alright," Cyd muttered to himself, flexing his hands. The power of thirteen blessings thrummed in his veins, a symphony of potential that was both exhilarating and terrifying. "Now… to say goodbye to my teacher."
After all, the target he was heading off to potentially kill… was Chiron's father.
He put two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the mountain air.
A moment later, the sound of beating wings, like a sail catching a gale, filled the sky. Pegasus descended, its white coat gleaming, its intelligent eyes fixed on Cyd. The winged horse landed with a gentle thud, stamping a hoof and snorting a greeting.
"Sorry to bother you again, friend," Cyd said, stroking the horse's powerful neck. He swung himself onto its back with practiced ease. "One more trip."
Pegasus tossed its head, gave a mighty beat of its feathered wings, and launched them both into the air, leaving Hephaestus's lonely peak behind.
---
Mount Pelion
"He's coming."
"I know."
"Will you be alright?"
"I'll pretend to be. You should go now."
"I'm sorry. For dragging you into this."
A heavy silence filled the cave.
Then, the thunder of hooves and wings outside, followed by Cyd's familiar, eager voice.
"Teacher? Teacher, are you here?"
Cyd slid from Pegasus's back and strode into the mouth of the cave, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior. Chiron stood waiting for him. The immortal centaur's posture was relaxed, his expression as gentle and patient as ever. But something felt… off. Cyd's instincts, honed by years of survival and sharpened by divine blessings, screamed a quiet warning.
"What's wrong? You seem agitated," Chiron said, his smile warm and familiar.
It's okay. It's just him. Normal.
Cyd let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, then his face scrunched up in an awkward frown. How did you even begin to explain this?
"I already know," Chiron said softly, saving him the trouble. He reached out and ruffled Cyd's hair, the gesture as comforting as it had been when Cyd was a boy. "Go. Do what you must."
"Teacher… are you feeling alright?" Cyd's eyes narrowed. The crystal containing Hermes's blessing on his bracer began to glow with a soft, persistent light.
"Teacher is immortal, remember?" Chiron chuckled, giving Cyd's head a light, playful tap.
"Your hand… it's cold. Then it's warm. Something's wrong." Cyd tried to pull back, to get a better look, but Chiron's grip on his head was firm, almost anchoring.
"It's nothing. I feel fine," Chiron insisted, his voice steady.
Cyd glanced at his wrist. The blessing was active. Chiron wasn't lying. Not a single word. So why did his chest feel hollow? Why did his teacher seem… insubstantial, like an image about to fade?
But the blessing couldn't be wrong. Chiron had no reason to lie. It had to be his own nerves.
"Teacher, for the next few years, maybe stay away from the other centaurs? They're getting bolder, drinking more. It's only a matter of time before there's trouble. I'd hate for you to get caught up in it," Cyd said, the words tumbling out. A premonition, vague but urgent.
Chiron went still. A smile spread across his face, but it was a complex one—a mix of deep pride and a sorrow so profound Cyd couldn't decipher it. The bad feeling in Cyd's gut intensified, coiling into a cold knot.
"Teacher! Did something happen?!"
"It's… not the first time something like this has happened. But do I look unwell to you? And I am immortal." To prove his point, Chiron rolled up the sleeve of his simple tunic, revealing the corded muscle of his human torso. It looked strong. Healthy.
Not lying.
Then why am I so scared?
Cyd raked his hands through his white hair, frustration and fear warring within him. The incident where Heracles would accidentally wound Chiron with a Hydra-poisoned arrow… that was supposed to be in the future. Even if his presence had twisted the timeline, it couldn't be now. The coincidence was too cruel.
"It's alright," Chiron said, his voice softening. He gently smoothed down Cyd's mussed hair. "The one who should be worried right now is you. The place you're going… that is the true Tartarus. And you go alone."
"It's fine, Teacher. I'm apparently un-killable now," Cyd said, tapping the jade bracer with a forced grin. "I can just… outlast whatever's down there."
"I see… So that was his plan." Chiron shook his head slowly, then reached out and tapped Cyd's forehead with a fingertip. "You know… you've become a truly remarkable hero."
"I guess so," Cyd mumbled, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile.
"Ah… I'm so glad." Chiron's smile was pure, undiluted pride. "You know, I never did give you a proper graduation gift."
"Come on, Teacher, I never paid you tuition," Cyd protested.
"No. You've given me more than enough. A teacher's greatest reward is seeing his student flourish. But even when a student travels far, a teacher can't help but worry." Chiron opened his arms. "Especially when that student is walking into danger."
He pulled Cyd into a firm, encompassing hug. It was the hug of a parent, a mentor, a friend.
"This… is my gift to you."
Cyd blinked, confused. Then he felt it—a subtle, profound shift, like a key turning in a lock deep within his spirit. A warmth, different from the blessings, flowed into him. It felt ancient, wise, and… final. The sense of wrongness, of impending loss, swelled until it was a roar in his ears.
"Teacher! What did you just do?!"
"Something I no longer need," Chiron said calmly. In one smooth motion, he lifted Cyd—who was too stunned to resist—and placed him back on Pegasus's back.
Not lying! But this is wrong! This is all wrong!
"Take care of him," Chiron said, patting the winged horse's neck. Then, with a firm slap on its flank, he sent Pegasus leaping forward.
"Wait! Teacher, I still have—!" Cyd twisted in the saddle, hand outstretched.
"I am so proud to have been your teacher."
Chiron took several steps back, his smile never wavering.
Pegasus's great wings caught the air with a sound like a thunderclap. The sudden ascent tore Cyd's unfinished words away, drowning them in the wind. But as the ground fell away, Chiron clearly saw the shape of Cyd's lips.
Wait for me!
"I didn't lie, you know," Chiron whispered to the empty air as the speck that was Cyd vanished into the clouds. His composed expression shattered. All color drained from his face, leaving it a sickly gray. "I really do feel… perfectly fine."
His legs buckled. He began to crumple sideways.
I'm sorry, my student. This teacher is going to disappoint you.
Before he could hit the stone floor, an arm shot out from the shadows of the cave and caught him.
"You shouldn't have held on for so long!" The voice was strained, filled with anguish.
"I couldn't help it," Chiron gasped, his body trembling violently. He lifted a hand, and Cyd watched in horror as tiny motes of golden light began to seep from his skin, rising into the air like escaping breath. "Even knowing he's grown… I still worry. It's my greatest flaw, I suppose. Tell me, Prometheus… was I too cautious?"
"I never should have sent him to you," Prometheus said, his face a mask of guilt and grief. He gripped Chiron's fading hand. The light leaking from the centaur slowed, and his form solidified once more, but the pain etched on his face was unbearable. "Then you wouldn't be—"
"I would have met this end regardless," Chiron said, each word a struggle as he fought against the agony wracking his immortal body. He pressed a hand to his chest, breathing in ragged gulps. "Meeting him… was the best thing."
"I'm sorry. You'll have to endure this… for a very, very long time." Prometheus looked away, unable to bear the sight. "Hate me, Chiron. This is all my fault. Heracles's misguided shot, Cyd coming to you, your inability to find peace… it all traces back to my meddling."
"What are you talking about?" Chiron's gaze was fixed on the patch of sky where Cyd had disappeared. Despite the tremors of pain, a genuine, peaceful smile touched his lips. "I'm… happy. Even at the end… I could still help my student."
"But the pain…"
"It doesn't matter. It was my choice. And besides…" A weak, triumphant laugh escaped him. "If a little pain and this broken body can buy his future… isn't that the best trade imaginable? You of all people should understand."
"I do." Prometheus's shoulders slumped in defeat. He remembered his own choice centuries ago—bound to the rock, his liver devoured daily, all for the spark of hope he'd given humanity. The look on Chiron's face was identical to the one he'd worn then.
To endure an eternity of torment… for the safe return of one beloved student.
Prometheus had been released. Zeus had finally relented. But Chiron's sentence…
"But when, Chiron? When will your suffering end?"
"That," Chiron whispered, his eyes still on the sky, "is not important."