Alkaios POV
The thin metallic tang of the mountain air stung my lungs, crisp and biting, an immediate reminder of the altitude and the untamed wilderness surrounding us. Beneath this icy exhale, there lingered a faint metallic taste, as if the earth itself was offering me a secret, only revealed at such heights. My heart thumped in my chest, eager and insistent like the beating wings of a bird ready to take flight. "Chiron, how further?" I inquired, trying to sound calm despite the bubbling excitement within me. On the threshold of Chiron's legendary guidance, I felt the thrill of an impending challenge, a destiny whispering of future triumphs and trials to test my courage.
Chiron hummed. "We're nearing our destination, Alkaios. At least your legs are," he remarked with a grin. "Your mind's journey depends on the route you take." Gazing toward the horizon, his smile diminished. "Every summit reveals a different truth," he continued, his tone hinting at something deeper. "The path can be both enlightening and perilous for those who doubt their own realities." His words lingered, hinting at something beyond a hike through the mountains and sparking curiosity about the trials to come.
Of course, a classic vague teacher answer. It reminded me of tales where oracles delivered prophecies more cryptic than helpful, like telling a sailor that the sea was as deep as wisdom and twice as mysterious. I rolled my eyes, picturing my Greek ancestors in heated discussions over obscure guidance, with less stoicism and more theatrical arm waving.
We strolled down the mountain trail. The air was thick with the scent of pine and cedar, each step a whisper of the ancient lands we were treading. The gravel crunched beneath our feet, marking our progress with its steady cadence. Now and then, the faint ringing of goat bells would drift through the air. Every chime synced with my heart's rapid beats, echoing my anticipation and amplifying my excitement. It was a reminder of Pan's presence watching over these hills, attuning me to the rhythm of my journey. It felt as if the trail itself was alive, a silent guardian to our passage, merging the land's voice with my own hopes and fears.
My Aura mended me. The wound on my cheek vanished with a crackling sound, in harmony with the earth beneath us. The pungent, metallic aroma of dried blood lingered before fading. My brow arched as the wound on my forearm disappeared in a shimmer of blue.
That was something I had never experienced. My Aura appeared white when energized. Now it was a muted blue. That was unusual. I recalled Aura reflected the hue of my soul. Had I changed so much that my Aura was revealing it? Blue like the deep Aegean waters, it hinted at a depth within me I had not yet explored. Was the blue a sign of deep, unresolved tension or a moral conflict emerging within me? My thoughts drifted to the responsibility weighing on my shoulders, to the choices I had made and those I hesitated to confront. Beneath my determination lay a churning uncertainty, mirrored by this unexpected change.
I sensed Chiron observing me while my injuries healed. He was courteous enough not to gaze, yet I could feel his eyes noting each sign of recovery. Anyone who had coached warriors like Heracles or Achilles would detect these signs of resilience. My grip on the strap of my haversack tightened, a micro-reaction to the silent weight of his scrutiny. A sudden weight settled on me, my muscles tightening as I moved forward, as if my body were responding to this silent scrutiny. I hesitated for a moment, my stride faltering on the rocky path, betraying a mix of anticipation and unease. I kept my gaze away from him, focusing on the trail, both of us acknowledging the truth.
I didn't mind answering questions about Aura, but unless someone asked, I would not.
The trail curved, and the trees thinned as the air grew clearer, and I could hear running water and something else — voices. Distant, overlapping each other, were the rise and fall of young throats mid-argument or practice. Amid the melodic chorus, the crisp clash of wooden swords striking each other echoed, a sound reminiscent of tales of heroes forged. It was as though an ancient war cry from the Iliad reverberated through time, promising a glimpse into the legendary heritage awaiting ahead. Ahead, just beyond a rise of stone and scrub, lay whatever Chiron called "training."
Part of me was nervous; I did not know who I would train with. The only idea I had was Castor and Pollux, but who else was here? I did not know the ages of the other Argonauts. Would I find allies or rivals on this journey, and what if I failed to prove myself worthy among them? The thought of returning without gaining their respect gnawed at me, fueling both my anxiety and determination.
Maybe it was silly, but the thought of not gaining the respect of figures I respected and heard stories about made me more nervous than I want to admit. It was like joining a new phalanx, unsure of how to earn my place among warriors whose legends preceded them.
The moment Chiron and I crested the ridge, the terrain revealed itself in all its glory. Inside the mountain's hollow, a warrior's garden flourished, the air thick with the scent of blossoming herbs. Down below, I could hear the clashing of metal. It was as if we had crossed a significant threshold, symbolizing the transition from the ordinary world to one of potential legends. This was where the true ordeal would begin, where tales of valor and destiny intertwined, urging me to step fully into the adventure laid before me.
The sound of metal drew my gaze, and I saw Pollux sparring with Heracles. I stared wide-eyed at the duel; the speed of their movements exceeded that of the Athenian warriors I had fought. These demigods, compared to the soldiers, presented a vast divide, like divinity versus mortality. As Heracles moved, it was as if there was an eerie grace to his form—a haunting ease that belied the ferocity of his assaults. At one point, Heracles executed a seemingly effortless parry, causing Pollux's sword to slam against a practice post with such force that it split in two, leaving me in awe of her raw power. Heracles's breathing remained steady, hardly breaking despite the intensity of the fight, highlighting an unworldly stamina. Pollux, though skilled, seemed to breathe with more effort, a contrast that underscored the profound gap between them.
I watched Heracles dominate the fight. Despite both being children of Zeus, there was a clear gap between the two. With each attack Heracles sent made Pollux's feet dug into the ground despite her deflecting everything. As I observed Heracles's power, a thought flickered through my mind. Could my Aura match that blow? It was more than admiration; it was an aspiration, a yearning to bridge the vast divide between us. The spectacle fueled a quiet determination within me, linking his display of strength to a deeper inner drive.
It made me curious about why there was such a massive strength gap between the two. I knew Heracles got his strength from breastfeeding from Hera. But was that the only reason for it? Even when we were far apart, Heracles seemed to radiate a presence that screamed hero. Pollux seemed to have her own presence, but compared to Heracles, hers was an ember before a flame.
Without even thinking about it, I placed my hand on Reid before I froze. Reid had unsheathed itself. Looking down at Reid, I could see the blade was barely visible. I took a moment to readjust Reid back to its sheath; I looked back to the spar.
It looked like Heracles had won. Pollux was kneeling on the ground, tired and sweating. Chiron stomped his hoof to get their attention.
"Pollux, where are your brother and Jason? They should be training right now," Chiron questioned her. I could see Pollux's eyes flicker to me before she looked back to Chiron.
"Jason tried to skip training today, so Castor went to bring him here," Pollux told Chiron. Chiron sighed, sounding tired. From what I knew about Jason, this seemed typical.
"Alright, I'll talk to Jason later. Heracles, Pollux, this is Alkaios Astrea. He'll be joining us from now on. Heracles, I want you to test Alkaios so I can see where he stands," Chiron said. Then he looked at me thoughtfully. "Alkaios, do you want to set a goal for this match? It could help both you and Heracles learn something new about yourselves." His question made the challenge feel more meaningful, like we were both exploring our limits.
As I thought about Chiron's question, I felt a sudden chill from Reid's sheath. The sword felt heavier at my side, reminding me how serious this duel would be.
"Alkaios, do you need time to recover your stamina, or are you comfortable challenging Heracles here?" Chiron asked me.
Part of me wanted to rest after climbing the mountain, but my excitement took over. I was about to face the man known as the Greatest Greek Hero. Of course, I was going to fight him. I could feel Reid shaking in its sheath, just as eager. It was as if the sword was tired of easy fights and finally found someone worthy.
"Just one thing, teacher," I began, my gaze locked on Heracles. "I want to use real blades."
Reid trembled within its sheath. If this dragged on any longer, I feared the sword might leap out on its own.
Chiron seemed surprised by my question, then turned to Heracles. "Heracles, are you willing to use your weapon?" he asked. Heracles gave me a long look before nodding at both Chiron and me.
Pollux gave me a look before she stepped back, wiping sweat from her brow. Chiron guided her farther from the ring with a gentle hand at her shoulder.
I waited patiently while Heracles fetched his weapon. A moment later, he returned with a club. He stood his ground; the club held loosely, his broad shoulders straining against the simple tunic, damp at the collar.
The wind, cool from the mountains, drifted through the valley, carrying the scent of crushed thyme and the freshness of the river. Behind us, the soft clink of metal signaled someone putting down a spear. The training ground felt hushed, as if everyone was holding their breath.
Chiron's voice sliced through the silence. "Real weapons, then." His gaze met mine, steady, timeless, and unwavering. "No killing. No attacks intended to maim. You fight until I stop you, or until someone gives up. Understood?"
Heracles gave a silent nod, readying himself. Taking a deep breath, I unsheathed Reid. I could feel Reid trembling, eager for a worthy opponent. What Reid considered "worthy" had always baffled me. Reinhard couldn't draw Reid against Regulus Corneas, but he could against Theresia van Astrea. Strength clearly wasn't the deciding factor, as Regulus was stronger than Theresia.
Truly wielding the Dragon Sword Reid felt incredible. I took a basic stance, channeling my Aura to its peak, pushing my muscles to their absolute limit. Then, I went a step further, drawing magic from my gate to fortify my body even more.
I never truly understood Heracles' strength. I'd witnessed his brief sparring match with Pollux and seen media portrayals from my past life, but there's a world of difference between observation and experience. Recalling the stories, I thought of Heracles holding the sky. I wouldn't hesitate to use every ounce of my being to get stronger. I had a gut feeling that it still wouldn't be enough.
Heracles and I exchanged a look, both of us expecting Chiron's signal to start the duel. The world seemed to hold its breath as I felt many eyes on me, though I couldn't tell whose they were. It could have been Pollux or the Gods themselves. Regardless, I didn't care; all that mattered was the boy standing before me.
The silence hung heavy until Chiron finally spoke the words I'd been expecting. "Begin!"
I launched myself forward instantly, using the Divine Protection of Swift Running, dashing to Heracles to close the gap. I saw his eyes widen, surprised by my speed. Reid cut through the air as I sliced towards Heracles, aiming for his arm to draw first blood.
People in the future considered Heracles the greatest Greek hero for a reason, though. In a flash, just before my sword found his arm, he raised his club to defend himself. My sword halted, not because the club was strong—it certainly wasn't as strong as Reid's. I could see Reid struggling, digging into the club. No, what stopped my attack was the immense power holding Reid steady.
Heracles shoved me away, sending me stumbling backward. To slow myself, I drove my sword into the ground. Looking up, I saw Heracles charging towards me. My heart leaped into my throat as I watched him rush forward, club raised to strike.
I narrowed my eyes, and the full power of the Divine Protection of the Sword Saint was fully activated. I could see the various attack and defense vectors available to me.
Heracles swung his club, and I parried the blow, but my arms shook as I did so. The sheer weight behind the attack was so massive I felt like my arms would break. After I parried, Heracles attacked. I brought Reid low, following the closest vector I saw, aiming my attack for his legs, but Heracles blocked the blow.
As Heracles blocked the blow, I felt my feet leave the ground as he used my strike to flip me through the air. I felt the world spin as I flipped through the air. Suddenly, my blue eyes met red. Heracles leaped through the air, reaching me, and I brought Reid up to block.
As I regained my balance, the clash of weapons echoed all around. My legs gave way as I hit the ground. Squinting, I activated Swift Running and sprinted towards Heracles. I couldn't hope to match his strength, so speed was my only option. I channeled mana through my gate, reinforcing my legs until they felt like they'd explode, and the ground cracked behind me as I kicked up a cloud of dust.
Watching Heracles land, I made it there before his feet hit the ground, my sword already slicing, intending to take his legs off. Heracles' club blocked my blow, and I couldn't help but click my tongue.
The problem was that Swift Running was just for that running. I couldn't channel that speed to my arms. Heracles jumped away, hoping to make distance, but I was on him like a bloodhound as I refused to let him go.
Our weapons clashed repeatedly. Each strike sent a numbing jolt through my arms, which my Aura valiantly repaired before the next impact. With gritted teeth, I felt my arms strain. I knew I had to change the momentum, or I would lose.
I twisted away, deflecting Heracles' club so that it slammed into the ground. Without hesitation, I channeled Od through me, quickening my sword's swing. My ears popped as a whirlwind erupted around us. My blade sliced across Heracles' chest, spraying blood.
Before I could savor my win, Heracles's grip closed around my hand, and his fist slammed into my ribs. The impact shattered my aura, and I felt something break.
Launched backward, I struggled to regain my balance. Heracles and I exchanged a silent look, a mutual understanding passing between us as we prepared to finish this duel. I channeled magic into Reid. The blade ignited with white light as I charged, unleashing a weak sword beam. Immediately, I poured more magic into Reid, focusing the energy, and then used Swift Running to circle the beam.
I watched as the beam of magic hit Heracles, as dust flew into the air. Not letting the moment go, I flew through the dust cloud to see Heracles' tough skin had rips and tears as blood dripped down. Heracles and I locked eyes, and neither of us could help the smiles that came upon us. Channeling as much magic through my arms, I could feel them crack in protest.
I put everything I had into swinging at Heracles' chest, hoping to end it. Heracles must have been thinking the same thing because he blocked my strike. Then, his left hand shot out towards my face. My blade met some resistance for a moment before slicing through his club and then through his torso.
I felt a surge of triumph for a split second, but it quickly faded. Reality hit hard as Heracles' fist connected with my face, and I felt the full force of Zeus's son. My head snapped back, and then Heracles sent me flying, tumbling and rolling across the field.
My vision swam as I spat out a tooth, blood welling in my mouth. I looked up to see Heracles kneeling, the gash across his torso almost cleaving him in two. The shattered remains of his club lay on the ground, the weapon completely ruined.
I looked at Heracles, and he looked at me. I smiled, and he returned my smile with his. Heracles picked up the broken remains of his club, and I lifted Reid up, both of us fully intending to continue until there was a victor.
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Pollux POV
I remained where I was, to the side of the arena as Chiron instructed, near enough to feel the wind from their swords, but far enough to avoid being trampled if someone fell. My lungs still ached from my fight. Sweat dried on my skin in the mountain air, turning to a chill that should have woken me up, should have calmed my nerves. But it didn't.
I wasn't sure what to make of Alkaios Astrea. I could respect that he'd slain the Stymphalian birds. Those monstrous creatures had attacked Sparta more than once, and Mother told me they'd even attacked our home before Castor and I were born.
I'd never seen them before, which I figured was because Lord Father had ordered Lord Ares to keep the birds away from Castor and me.
I was furious when I received my mother's letter two lunar cycles ago. She ordered me to bring Alkaios Astrea to Sparta at the request of Lord Ares. The letter also revealed Alkaios had killed some Athenians disguised as bandits, who were trying to infiltrate our territory. I was satisfied knowing those Athenian cowards were dead, but rage overwhelmed me because my mother told me to seduce Alkaios. I still remember ripping the scroll to shreds.
Why was I being pushed to lower myself to seduce Alkaios? Why not Helen? Everyone wanted her, Gods knew. I was angry, but Castor was furious. The teacher had to calm him down, or he would have destroyed the camp.
The moment I saw Alkaios, I wanted him dead. I wouldn't marry anyone unless he could prove himself my equal. But, as a princess and daughter of Zeus, I had to control my rage; I couldn't throw a tantrum.
If Lord Ares wanted Alkaios on our side, he'd have to earn it. Alkaios would have to fight me every step of the way. If he couldn't handle Castor and my fury, he wouldn't be worthy. I could overlook his lack of a notable lineage. I wasn't planning on marrying a demigod anyway. There were so few of us demigods around.
I turned my attention to the spar, unsure of what to expect. Alkaios killing the Stymphalian birds was a monumental accomplishment, but Heracles wasn't like Castor and me. Among us children of Lord Zeus, he was... different.
He possessed strength like a mountain bore snow: it was intrinsic, permanent. I'd just faced him and felt his club's impact in every part of my body. I understood what it was to confront him.
My breath caught as I watched Alkaios draw his sword. It was a masterpiece, truly. Though not as intricate as mine, it was still breathtaking. Where could such a blade have been forged? Was it perhaps a reward for slaying the Stymphalian birds?
Watching Alkaios and Heracles duel, I finally understood why Lord Ares desired such a warrior. With such a soldier under the Spartan banner, we could finally conquer Athens, and then all of Hellas. The way the two were fighting was a work of art.
Heracles was as strong as ever. Seeing him strike Alkaios's weapon made my arms shake, remembering when I was on the other end. I could see Alkaios's arms shaking, but I was surprised to see the flash of blue appearing after each clash, which had my full attention.
What was that? I have seen nothing like that in my life.
As the duel progressed, I clenched my fist. Heracles was bleeding. I'd seen him bleed before, of course, but never from someone our age—only from teacher.
Before the duel could continue, Chiron moved. I didn't hear him come; I felt him, a shift in wind, as if the mountain itself had turned its gaze. Then, his hoof struck the ground—a single, weighty blow. The dirt rippled, and the stream beside the ring formed concentric circles. Chiron stood between them. "Enough." The word wasn't loud, but it was final.
I couldn't help but compare Heracles' broken weapon to Alkaios', which was in perfect shape. I felt certain about the outcome of this match, and judging by the way Heracles eyed his club, he seemed to agree.
Maybe this won't be so bad after all. "YOU!" I heard Castor scream, and I saw him running at Alkaios, enraged. Well, it wouldn't be so bad if Alkaios could survive my brother's wrath.
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Author's Note: Alkaios didn't receive any divine protection during the fight because of his pride. He was determined to win with what he had. He believed it would be unfair to rely on more Divine Protections, so he refrained from seeking more.