Burial and a new purpose

Chapter 8: What comes next:

The dawn was unlike the warm, golden mornings of the past days. This one bled red across the horizon, casting an ominous glow over the land. It was as if the sky itself mourned the blood spilled the night before.
We left the farm before the first light, the fire behind us consuming everything we once called home. The smoke was thick, **** the air, and by the time we reached the crest of a hill, the farm was nothing more than a pit of ash. The blackened skeletons of structures jutted out like broken bones, the remnants of a life we could never return to.
Ikaro led us to the top of the hill, where an ancient tree stood guard over the land. Its gnarled roots twisted into the earth as though they held the memories of the place. Under its shade, I saw why Ikaro had chosen this spot: this was where their mother was buried.
We spent the rest of the night digging a grave beside hers. The soil was hard, as if the earth itself resisted taking in another life too soon. When the grave was ready, we laid Arbos to rest. The silence between us was deafening, broken only by the scrape of shovels and the rustling of leaves in the cold night wind.
By dawn, it was done. I stepped back to give Iris and Ikaro space for their goodbyes.
Ikaro approached the grave first, kneeling before it. I couldn’t hear what he said, but his shoulders shook, betraying the raw grief that words could never contain. After a few minutes, he stepped away, his face pale and drawn, and nodded to Iris.
Iris knelt before her father’s grave, her fingers brushing against the freshly turned earth. She whispered something too soft for me to catch, her head bowed as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Ikaro joined me as we watched her. His face was gaunt, his usual energy replaced with a hollow exhaustion.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I should be the one asking you that,” I replied, studying him.
Ikaro let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I feel like absolute dogshit. It all feels like a bad dream. How did you do it, Kayn?”
“Do what?”
“Cope with everything after… whatever happened to you,” he said, his voice tinged with melancholy. “You’ve been through something insane—traumatic. How did you keep going when everything you knew was gone?”
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t, not at first. When Arbos told me what happened and who I might be, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere, like I was just a tool someone forgot to use. But… he gave me a purpose. He made me see that I could choose who I wanted to be.”
A faint smile flickered on Ikaros’s face. “He had that effect on people, didn’t he?”
“He did,” I said quietly. “Your father was a great man.”
“The best,” Ikaro murmured. He looked back at the gravesite, where Iris still crouched. “I’m going to miss those fields, you know. The wind, the crops, even the animal crap.”
“And animal crap,” I echoed with a small smile.
Ikaro chuckled despite himself. “Seeing it all gone in an instant… I can’t even imagine how Iris feels. She’s strong, but I know her. She’ll think this is all her fault.”
“She’s stronger than she knows,” I said. “Stronger than either of us.”

“Maybe,” Ikaro said, leaning back against the tree. “But strength doesn’t stop the guilt. She’s like me in that way—we both think we could’ve done more. And by the time we realize we did all we could, it’s too late.”
I didn’t respond. The weight of his words hung between us, and I felt a pang of guilt deep in my chest. “I wish I’d been there in time,” I admitted.
Ikaro shook his head. “Don’t. I don’t blame you, and neither does Iris. You were where you needed to be. You’ve got this… destiny thing hanging over your head, and it’s not like you conjured that sword out of nowhere.”
“No, it was given to me,” I said, hesitating. “By someone who… let’s just say they’re on our side.”

“Well, remind me to have a toast for that guy when we are at a bar” Ikaro says laughing

Before Ikaro could press me further, Iris approached us. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed red, evidence of the tears she had shed. Yet, amidst the traces of sorrow, there was a quiet determination in her expression, as if she had resolved to push forward despite the storm raging within her. The weight of what they had all endured was palpable, but Iris stood as if drawing strength from some hidden wellspring, prepared to face whatever came next. She glanced between us, taking a steadying breath before speaking.
“What’s next?” she asked, her voice steady but hollow.
Ikaro gave her a weak grin. “I don’t know, to be honest. A shower could be a good start,” he said, looking down at his dirt- and ash-covered, bruised body. “And some medical care wouldn’t hurt, though I’m not that banged up.”
“I was talking to Kayn,” Iris said, her gaze locking onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. Her eyes, though weary, carried a storm of emotions—grief, frustration, and a silent plea for answers that couldn’t be ignored. The weight of her tone silenced any further lighthearted comments, leaving the air heavy with unspoken urgency. Her tone carried a weight that silenced any further lighthearted comments.
“Why would I know what to do?” I asked, caught off guard.
“Because I’m completely lost,” she replied, her voice quivering slightly but firm. "Everything feels like it's crumbled beneath me. It’s like standing on a battlefield after the fight is over—no direction, no safety, just emptiness." “Everything I knew is gone, and I feel like shit.” Ikaro glanced at her, a flicker of helplessness crossing his face. He wanted to comfort her but clearly felt the same.
“At the farm, that assassin… you called him something,” she continued, her eyes narrowing. “You know what’s going on and why this happened. I don’t blame you for what happened, but I need answers.” She stepped closer, her vulnerability laid bare as she looked at me with an unspoken plea.
I hesitated, unsure how to begin. “Are you two sure you want to know?” I asked, my voice low. “There’s no turning back once you do.”
“Yes,” Ikaro said firmly, stepping up beside his sister. For the first time, he took the lead. “We need to know.”
I took a deep breath. “Since I woke up, I’ve been hearing a female voice in my head. This voice has been guiding me, helping me rediscover lost skills and powers I used to have.”
Iris tilted her head, her brow furrowing as a memory clicked into place. “Like when you suddenly became an expert archer?” Iris asked, her words bringing me back to that fleeting moment in the woods. The memory of drawing the bow with impossible precision flashed through my mind—how the bowstring had felt natural under my fingers, how the arrow had flown true without hesitation. I nodded.
“Exactly,” I said with a faint smile. “She’s been helping me recover my strength since I fell from the sky.”
“She? Who is she?” Iris asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and suspicion. Ikaro said nothing but nodded, clearly wondering the same thing.
“Well,” I began, “she is… no other than Athena.”
Both siblings froze, their expressions ranging from shock to outright disbelief.
“Like Athena, THE Athena?” Ikaro finally managed, his voice rising. “Or someone else who just happens to have the same name?”
“THE Athena,” I clarified, bracing for their reactions.
Ikaro clutched his head, pacing in a small circle as he tried to process this revelation. Iris, however, was more composed, her mind working through the implications.
“Why?” she asked quietly, her voice steady but filled with questions.
“Last night,” I began, “I woke up to a strange light that seemed to cut through the darkness like a beacon. It wasn’t just ordinary light, it felt alive, as though it carried purpose and intent. Athena used it to guide me deep into the forest. When I reached a clearing, her spirit projection appeared before me, shimmering with an ethereal glow. She explained some things to me—not everything, as she couldn’t reveal all—but enough to paint a picture of what we’re up against. Both the world and Olympus are threatened by a dark clan called the Erebosians, masters of dark and sinister magic. They were the ones who caused my fall, stole my memories, and shackled my powers. The spell they cast not only weakens me but also prevents Athena from helping me directly in her physical form, leaving her only able to guide me like this."
Iris’s eyes widened as realization struck. “I heard you call the assassin that… an Erebosian.”
“I did,” I confirmed. “Though he was just a lackey, not a true member. When I wield Dawn, I can… sense their dark magic. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like a beacon of corruption that I can feel.”
“Okay, so Athena is basically your guardian,” Ikaro interjected, still piecing things together. “And she gave you your magical sword.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“But what do they want?” Ikaro asked, his brow furrowing.
“To be honest with you, I don’t know entirely,” I admitted, frustration creeping into my tone.

“They want to destroy the gods and conquer the world, but I don’t know for whom or what purpose. They’re powerful enough to terrify the gods themselves, which means someone—or something—is pulling the strings.”
“What do they want from you?” Iris asked, her voice softer now but laced with urgency.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But they seem fixated on killing me at all costs. That’s why they attacked the farm.”
I looked away, guilt gnawing at me. “It was my fault. They were after me.”

“How do we stop them?” Iris asked confidently, her determination palpable. Ikaro nodded in agreement, his resolve mirrored in her words.
“We?” I asked, glancing at the siblings. “I’m not taking you both into this… war.”
“Tough luck. We’re coming with you,” Ikaro declared with fiery conviction. “These bastards won’t go unpunished after what they did.”
“And if the world is in danger, then we have to do everything we can to help,” Iris added, her voice steady, her newfound confidence unmistakable.
I sighed and took a step back, my mind racing with conflicting emotions. But their resolve was unyielding, and in the end, I knew they were right. “I promised your dad I’d protect you,” I said, my voice softening. “I can’t just let you follow me into danger.”
“Please,” Ikaro scoffed, his signature charisma slipping back into place. “Do you really think we won’t find danger on our own? Have you met my sister?”
“Asshole,” Iris retorted, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “But he’s got a point. You’re not getting away from us that easily.”
I glanced up at the sky, silently appealing to the gods for guidance. Deep down, though, I already knew what I had to say. It wasn’t the safest choice, but it was the right one. “Very well, then,” I said, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Looks like we’ve got a mission to complete.”
Iris’s expression softened into something warmer, a quiet, loving smile that seemed to chase away the lingering shadows. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Ikaro exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious.
“Where do we start, Captain?” Iris teased, her humor returning alongside her beautiful smile—one that always had the power to melt my heart.
“Delphi,” I answered without hesitation. “I have to see the Oracle. She can help me recover some of my memories and strength.”
Both siblings nodded, but Ikaro stepped back for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Iris tilted her head at him, her curiosity piqued. “Something on your mind, brother?”
“We should go to Sparta,” Ikaro said, his tone carrying a weight that made us both pause.
“Sparta?” Iris repeated, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Why would we go there?”
Ikaro glanced at me, his expression earnest. “Kayn, do you remember what Father said about the creatures near Sparta becoming more aggressive?”
I nodded slowly, recalling Arbos’s warnings. “I do. You think the Erebosians are behind it?”
“It makes sense,” Ikaro said firmly. “If they’re using dark magic, they could be corrupting creatures to raise an army or start a war on the continent while they go after Olympus.”
Iris frowned, her sharp mind already picking apart the plan. “So, you’re saying we should warn Sparta about the threat? What makes you think they’ll listen to us?”
Ikaro met her gaze, undeterred. “Because we’re not just going to Sparta—we’re going to talk to General Dario. Father said he wanted to talk to some old friends at the tavern… maybe he meant him.”
Iris’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing as she stared at her brother like he’d just suggested jumping into a pit of vipers. “General Dario? Are you insane?”
“Who’s General Dario?” I asked, feeling lost in their exchange.
“He’s our… uncle,” Iris replied reluctantly. “But Ikaro is delusional if he thinks Dario will listen to us.”
“Why not? He’s family,” Ikaro said, his confidence unshaken.
“He and Father didn’t part on the best of terms,” Iris countered, her voice laced with frustration. “Or did you forget that little detail?”
“I know,” Ikaro said, his voice softening for the first time. “But he’ll listen to us once we tell him what happened here. He has to.”
I hesitated, not wanting to meddle in their family affairs. “Ikaro, are you sure about this? I don’t want to drag you both into more personal conflicts.”
“We don’t have much choice,” Ikaro replied, his resolve unyielding. “Who else can we trust to take us seriously besides Athena or the Oracle?”
Iris sighed, clearly conflicted but unwilling to back down. “We’ve got us,” she said, stepping forward. “And that will be enough in the end.”
She extended her hand toward the center, signaling for us to join her. Ikaro and I exchanged a glance before placing our hands over hers. “To the end,” we said in unison, the words binding us together as a team ready to face the challenges ahead.
“Very well then—to Delphi!” Ikaro announced, taking the lead with a confident stride. I lingered for a moment, watching him go before turning to Iris.
“You ready to put up with him for the rest of the year?” she teased, her smile as radiant as ever.
“A small price to pay to save the world,” I said with a grin. Together, we walked toward the horses, our steps heavy with purpose but lightened by the bond we shared. We were ready to face the quest ahead.