Into a city in chaos.

Chapter 17: A city in Darkness.

Our journey across the seas from Corinthos to Delphi was finally coming to an end. As the Black Rose approached the shores, the ancient city of the Oracle revealed itself in the distance. Delphi stood like a jewel amid the rugged cliffs, its towering spires and sacred aura untouched by time. The city glimmered faintly in the morning light, though something about it felt eerily quiet, almost foreboding.
“Well, I promised you all Delphi, and here you have it,” Basilius said, flashing his characteristic grin as the four of us leaned over the ship's railing to take in the view.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the group. After days of rough seas and constant tension, the sight of land—particularly this land—brought a fleeting sense of calm.
“Fucking finally,” Noor muttered, brushing a strand of her dark hair out of her face. “I was starting to think your Oracle’s city was part of some myth, like a mirage that vanishes the closer you get.”
Surprisingly, Entinos let out a low chuckle at her quip.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Iris added, her tone uncharacteristically light as she nodded in agreement.
Noor raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly grin. “That’s it? No comeback? No snide remark? Nothing?”
“This time, yes,” Iris replied, her voice calm but with a deliberate edge. She glanced at me, as if to remind herself to hold back. It was clear she was trying her best not to engage in their usual bickering.
Noor’s eyes narrowed slightly as her gaze flicked between Iris and me, clearly piecing something together. “Huh,” she mused, her smirk deepening. “So, this is your influence, Kayn. Well, just so you know, I’m still going to tease you. No fun otherwise.”
“Good,” Iris said, meeting Noor’s smirk with one of her own. “I wouldn’t expect less from you.”
“Bring it on, witch,” she added, her voice carrying a rare note of humor.
The two women exchanged smirks, their sharp words giving way to a tenuous truce—at least for now.
The four of us men exchanged looks, bemused by the strange development.
“This is weird,” Ikaro said, his expression as puzzled as his tone. “It’s like they still hate each other, but there’s... peace?”
I shrugged. Even I hadn’t expected their dynamic to shift so quickly.
“Sad,” Basilius chimed in, shaking his head theatrically. “I was hoping for a catfight. They’re always fun, especially if one of them can throw fireballs.”
Ikaro burst out laughing, clearly entertained by the captain’s antics.
“Should we bet on who wins?” Entinos asked, his calm tone betraying a glimmer of amusement.
The suggestion caught us all off guard. Ikaro raised an eyebrow at the stoic satyr, then grinned. “Twenty drachmas on Noor. No way my sister’s out-talking someone who can probably curse her mid-sentence.”
I gave him a pointed look. “You’re not betting on your own sister?”
“I love her,” he replied with a shrug, “but let’s be real—Noor’s got magic and wit. Iris is tough, but this is a battle of fire and stubbornness.”
“She’s sharper in mind than Noor,” Entinos interjected with quiet confidence. “Thirty on Iris.”
Basilius leaned against the mast, his grin widening. “In a physical fight, I’d back Iris, no question. But a war of words?” He shook his head. “The witch takes it. Thirty drachmas on Noor.”
“I’m putting my money on Iris,” I said, smirking. “She’s the queen of sharp comebacks. Twenty-five drachmas.”
The four of us settled into a loose circle, keeping our voices low as we watched Noor and Iris face off. Their banter grew more intense, their words as sharp as blades clashing in the crisp morning air.
“Should we step in if this gets out of hand?” Ikaro asked, though his amused tone suggested he wasn’t too concerned.
“Depends on who’s winning,” Basilius quipped, drawing another round of chuckles.
Entinos turned to me, his stoic demeanour softening just enough to reveal a faint smirk. “What do you think, Kayn? Ready to play peacemaker?”
I shook my head, grinning. “Not a chance. This is their fight. Besides, I’d rather not end up in the crossfire.”
The ship swayed gently beneath us, the towering cliffs of Delphi growing closer with each passing moment. Yet none of us could look away from the storm and wildfire unfolding before us. Noor’s relentless wit clashed with Iris’s unyielding resolve, each refusing to back down.
“You know,” Ikaro said, shaking his head with a chuckle, “I think we underestimated how stubborn Iris is.”
“And how relentless Noor can be,” Basilius added with a knowing smile.
“They know we’re watching, don’t they?” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
“They do,” Entinos replied simply. “But they’re too proud to stop.”
The laughter and banter died down abruptly when Basilius’s grin faded, his sharp eyes narrowing as he focused on the approaching shore. Something had shifted in his demeanour, the light-hearted captain suddenly replaced by a man on edge.
“Everything okay?” I asked, stepping closer to him.
Entinos mirrored my concern, his usual calm giving way to a faint crease of worry.

“No… We should have seen a Delphi sea patrol ship by now,” Basilius muttered, his usual easy demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness. His sharp eyes scanned the horizon, as though expecting danger to materialize at any moment. “Something’s off.”
The tension on the deck was palpable as the Black Rose glided closer to the docks. The sea was eerily calm, and the faint sound of seagulls did little to ease the unease settling over us.
As we neared the dock, Basilius raised a hand, signaling the crew to slow. A small fishing ship drifted into view, bobbing on the gentle waves. A lone man sat aboard, his posture slouched, his movements sluggish. He looked like a man burdened by unseen weight, his face weathered and eyes hollow.
“Hello there!” Basilius called out, his voice steady but friendly, attempting to catch the fisherman’s attention. “I’m Basilius, captain of the Black Rose. Can you tell us why there’s no patrol in these waters?”
The man glanced up lazily, his expression one of weariness. “Most of the ships... they’ve gone to the war effort,” he replied, his voice hoarse and barely audible. He hesitated, his gaze dropping as if the next words were too heavy to speak. “The ones that remain…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, clearly disturbed.
“You can dock freely if you want,” he added with a hollow tone, returning to his work without sparing us another glance. “But it’s your choice.”
We watched in silence as he rowed away, his fishing boat disappearing into the haze hanging over the water.
“Okay, that didn’t sound good,” Iris said, stepping beside us with Noor close behind. Her voice was tense, her instincts already on edge.
“Not in the slightest,” Basilius agreed, stroking his beard as he pondered. “For Delphi to be this unguarded is unheard of. The Oracle would never allow such negligence.”
I scanned the docks ahead, my eyes narrowing. “There are some triremes docked,” I pointed out, gesturing to a few large ships moored in the distance. “But there’s no one tending to them. It’s like the whole place is abandoned.”
Entinos grunted, his broad shoulders tensing as his sharp eyes took in the scene. “This isn’t right,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Something’s clearly wrong here.”
“What do you say, lads?” Basilius asked, his gaze sweeping over us. “Do we press on?”
The four of us exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between us. Whatever lay ahead, fear wasn’t going to stop us. We nodded as one.
“Very well,” Basilius said, motioning for his crew to resume rowing. The oars sliced through the water as we made our way to the docks, the tension aboard the Black Rose growing heavier with every stroke.
When we finally arrived, the scene that greeted us was unsettling. The docks, once bustling with life, were eerily quiet. A few fishermen moved about, their heads down, their focus solely on their tasks. They paid us no mind, their faces gaunt and eyes distant, as though they had resigned themselves to some grim reality.
“Well, here we are, lads,” Basilius said, his voice quieter than usual as he stepped off the ship.
“You’re leaving us?” I asked, uncertain if this was where our paths would part.
“No,” he replied firmly, and Entinos nodded in agreement. “Something’s not right here. For us in Corinthos to have heard nothing… I need to get answers. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “you might still need a shipmaster.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, appreciating his decision to stay.
“No need for that,” he replied, raising a hand dismissively.
“We should head straight to the central square,” Ikaro suggested, his usual humor replaced by a rare seriousness. “That’s where the Oracle’s temple is. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s her.”
“Agreed,” Iris said, and for once, Noor didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded, her brow furrowed in thought.
“We’re coming with you,” Basilius said, motioning to Entinos, who fell into step beside him.
I nodded, grateful for their presence as we moved into the heart of Delphi.
The streets of the city were almost deserted, an unsettling sight for a place as renowned as Delphi. The narrow roads bore signs of recent neglect, with crumbling walls and overgrown vines creeping into view. Debris littered the pathways, and the few people we did see moved quickly, their faces shadowed by hoods or hidden by scarves.
“This is strange,” Iris murmured, her hand resting instinctively on the hilt of her dagger. “Have they been invaded?”
“No,” Noor said sharply, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “This isn’t the work of my people. Something else happened here.” She turned to me, her eyes searching mine. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
I nodded; my senses heightened by the unmistakable presence of magic lingering in the air. “Yes,” I admitted, my voice low. “And I don’t like it.”
As we approached the temple, the air grew heavier, a tangible tension pressing down on us. The grand structure loomed ahead, its marble columns and intricate carvings tarnished from the attacks. Yet it wasn’t the state of the temple that caught our attention—it was the commotion unfolding at its entrance.

The temple entrance was in chaos. A flock of **** people had gathered, their voices raised in anger and pleas as they demanded answers from the guards and a robed figure—a man who exuded authority, likely a senior member of the temple. The crowd’s frustration was palpable, their need for guidance clear in their restless movements and raised voices. Yet their calls went unanswered, the Oracle remaining silent in the face of their despair.
As we approached the crowd, we tried to weave through without causing harm, nudging people aside as gently as possible. The closer we got to the temple steps, the more heated the atmosphere became. When we reached the robed man, his stern gaze locked onto us, particularly on me.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, raising my voice just enough to be heard over the din. “Where is the Oracle?”
Before he could respond, two guards stepped forward, their spears crossed in front of me to block my approach. I tensed, prepared for confrontation, but the robed man raised his hand, stopping them. His eyes widened as he studied my face, lingering on my white hair. His expression shifted from irritation to shock, as though he had seen a ghost.
“It can’t be…” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the clamor of the crowd.
Then, regaining his composure, he addressed the guards. “Let him through. I need to speak with him.”
The guards hesitated but eventually stepped aside. I motioned for the group to step out of the crowd while I approached the man. His eyes darted nervously to the angry mob before he leaned in close to whisper.
“Meet me at the back entrance of the temple,” he said hurriedly. “We need to talk away from prying eyes.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and disappeared into the temple, leaving the crowd to grow even more agitated.
The temple’s militia arrived soon after, dispersing the gathering with stern commands and an imposing show of ****. The uneasy silence that followed lingered as we made our way to the back entrance as instructed.
The robed man, was waiting for us there. He unlocked a small, unassuming door and gestured for us to follow him inside. The cool air of the temple’s interior provided some relief from the tension outside. The halls were grand, adorned with intricate murals and towering columns, though signs of neglect were evident—cracked walls, faded paint, and dust clinging to the once-pristine carvings.
“Apologies for the commotion,” he said, turning to address us as he led the way. “I couldn’t let you enter through the front in broad daylight. The people are on edge, and your arrival would have only made things worse.” He sighed, brushing a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away his weariness.

I studied him for a moment, noting the fine embroidery of his robes and the way he carried himself—stately, yet burdened. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” I said.
He straightened slightly, muttering something under his breath before speaking clearly. “Where are my manners? I am Erastus, Grand Priest of this temple and second in command here in Delphi.” He bowed his head lightly in a show of respect.

“Please to meet you Erastus, I’m Kayn and this right here are my companions” I say motioning to each of them presenting each one. “Tell me, what’s going on here… where is the Oracle?”

Erastus nodded to each of them in turn before turning his attention back to me. “You’ll forgive my abruptness, but there’s little time for pleasantries. I believe you’ll understand once I show you. Follow me.”
With that, he led us up a sweeping staircase to the second floor, where the Oracle’s chambers were located. The atmosphere grew heavier with each step, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. When we reached a grand set of double doors, Erastus paused, his hand resting on the handle.
“She’s inside,” he said softly before pushing the doors open.
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of incense. In the center of the chamber lay the Oracle, her frail form draped in silken sheets. A young priestess knelt at her bedside, dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth. The Oracle’s face was pale, her breaths shallow, and her body trembled as if consumed by a fever.
“Erastus! What are you doing? Who are these people?” the priestess demanded, her voice a mix of concern and outrage.

“It’s all right, Euclides,” Erastus said gently. “Look at him.”
The young priestess’s gaze shifted to me, her eyes widening in shock as she noticed my white hair. She looked back at Erastus for confirmation, and he nodded solemnly.
“What happened to her?” I asked, stepping forward with concern as I crouched by the Oracle’s bed. Iris knelt beside me, placing a hand on the Oracle’s forehead.
“She’s burning up,” Iris murmured, her brow furrowing. “Is there no doctor who can help her?”
“We’ve tried everything,” Euclides replied, her voice trembling. “The best healers in Delphi have seen her, but nothing works. We believe she’s been cursed.”
“A curse?” I repeated, my heart sinking.

“Chosen… white hair… Athena…” the Oracle muttered weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
The words sent a chill through the room. The others turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.
“That’s you,” Ikaro said, breaking the silence.
Erastus nodded, his expression grave. “That’s how I recognized you in the crowd,” he admitted. “Even in her fevered state, she speaks these words. It’s as if she’s trying to guide us… to guide you.”
“But that’s not the worst of it,” he added, his voice heavy with dread.
We exchanged confused glances, a sense of foreboding settling over us. “What could be worse than the Oracle on her deathbed?” I asked.

Erastus led us through a narrow corridor and out the back of the temple. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and decay as we approached an old, crumbling building that had been repurposed as a makeshift hospital. Even before stepping inside, the low moans of the injured reached us, mingling with the hurried murmurs of priests and healers.
Inside, the scene was beyond grim. Beds and pallets were crammed into every corner, filled with men and women bearing horrific injuries. Some were covered in fresh bandages, their wounds oozing through the cloth, while others lay motionless, their pale faces suggesting they were close to ****. Bloodied rags were piled in corners, and the air smelled of iron and sweat. Healers moved frantically between patients, doing their best to save those they could, but the despair in their eyes spoke volumes.
Even Noor, usually composed and teasing, looked shaken. Her sharp gaze softened as she took in the suffering around us, her fingers curling into her palm as if to ground herself. Ikaro’s usual humor was nowhere to be found, his face set in a rare expression of quiet fury.
“What—or who—caused this?” I asked, my voice low but charged with anger as I clenched my fist, the need for action simmering just below the surface.
Erastus sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the memory. “It began the night after the Oracle fell ill,” he said, his voice tinged with weariness. “We were attacked under cover of darkness by creatures… things born of nightmares.”
He paused, collecting himself before continuing. “The corpses of our fallen—our soldiers from wars long past—rose from their graves. They came as shadows of their former selves, driven by a single purpose: to drag us into the grave alongside them. They spared no one in their path, killing and maiming indiscriminately.”
His words hung in the air like a heavy shroud. Noor’s eyes widened slightly, and Iris drew closer to me, her hand instinctively brushing her weapon.
“Dark creatures…” I murmured, trying to piece it together.
Erastus nodded grimly. “We managed to fight them off, but only barely. Our forces were already stretched thin, with most of our warriors sent off to the war effort. What few experienced soldiers remained here… well,” he said, motioning to a heap of bodies just outside the makeshift hospital.
The sight made my stomach churn. The pile of corpses, hastily covered with tattered sheets, bore the unmistakable signs of battle: shredded armor, weapons broken and bloodied. Flies buzzed in clouds around the scene, adding to the pervasive sense of despair.
“The survivors,” Erastus continued, “are all here, and most of them won’t fight again.” He motioned to the room around us. “The few who can still stand are our militia leaders, but even they are faltering. Every night, these creatures return, relentless and merciless. We’ve managed to hold them back, but only just. I fear it’s only a matter of time before they overwhelm us entirely.”
His voice cracked slightly at the end, his composure slipping for the briefest moment. The gravity of his words settled heavily on all of us. Even Entinos, ever stoic, crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw set in grim determination.
I glanced at my companions. Ikaro’s hands were clenched at his sides, his usual humor replaced by a quiet intensity. Iris looked pale, her eyes darting over the wounded. Noor had wrapped her arms around herself, uncharacteristically subdued as her gaze lingered on a child lying limp in the corner.

After leaving the makeshift hospital, the six of us gathered in a quiet, empty room at the edge of the temple. The air was heavy with tension, each of us processing the grim reality we faced.
“Well... this is nice. Really fucking nice,” Noor said, breaking the silence with a bitter edge to her voice. Her frustration was palpable, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.
Basilius let out a low, sardonic chuckle, his tone matching the mood. “Well said, girl.”
“We need to help these people,” Ikaro interjected, his voice firm and unwavering. “We can’t just leave them helpless.”
Iris nodded in agreement; her expression resolute.
Noor, however, was far from convinced. “If you haven’t heard, let me spell it out for you,” she snapped, her anger spilling over. “That priest out there just told us there’s a horde of undead coming for us tonight. And the Oracle—the one we’ve been searching for this whole time—is lying comatose, halfway to Hades already.” Her frustration wasn’t just anger—it was fear, barely masked behind her sharp words.
“So what? We just abandon these people and walk away?” Iris shot back, clearly bristling at Noor’s apparent lack of empathy.
“It’s worked fine for us so far, hasn’t it?” Noor retorted, her voice cutting. She sighed heavily and softened her tone, her frustration giving way to pragmatism. “I’m not being heartless. I’m being realistic. You and I both know this—” she gestured between herself and me— “We are powerful... but means nothing against an entire army of walking corpses.”
“We don’t have much choice, now do we?” Iris countered; her voice steady but filled with urgency. “It’s already afternoon. By the time we set sail, night will fall, and they’ll already be here.”
“She’s right,” I said, finally breaking my silence. The weight of my words seemed to still the room, all eyes turning to me. “We have to help them. The Oracle, Delphi… all of it. If we don’t, who will?”
Noor’s expression shifted, her fear and anger clashing visibly on her face. “Kayn,” she said, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to sway me, “this isn’t some band of mercenaries or pirates. This is a horde of undead—monsters who won’t stop until we’re all dead. Even with the four of us, we can’t stop them.”
“Not four,” Entinos said, his deep, stoic voice cutting through the room like steel. “I’m fighting with you.”
Noor scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, great. That’ll help us last a few more minutes. Hoorah!” she said sarcastically, then paused, her bravado faltering. She looked at me, her gaze ****, pleading. “Kayn… you can’t be serious about this. We can find another way to unlock your memories. We don’t have to die here.”
I stepped closer to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You know as well as I do that there’s no other way. If Delphi falls, if the Oracle dies… the consequences will be far worse than any of us can imagine. We have to help them.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her walls cracking as she exhaled shakily.
Basilius broke the silence, his practical mind already working ahead. “Let’s say we survive tonight—how exactly are we supposed to cure your Oracle?”
“He’s right,” Ikaro added, his earlier resolve flickering with doubt. “We didn’t even think about that.”
“If we survive,” I said, my voice steady, “I’ll contact Athena. She’ll know how to help us.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Iris asked, her voice laced with concern as she tried to think through every possibility.
“Then we’ll die,” I said with a small, wry grin, “but at least we’ll do it in style.”
The tension in the room broke slightly as Ikaro chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, fuck it. I’m in.”
“I didn’t think I’d be spending the rest of my day fighting the undead,” Iris said, her lips quirking into a faint smile as she exchanged a glance with her brother.
“My blade is yours, Kayn” Entinos said solemnly, his unwavering bravery shining through as always.
Basilius let out a heavy sigh but nodded. “I’m no warrior, but I won’t abandon these people. I’ll prepare the Black Rose to evacuate as many as I can if things go south. That’s the least I can do.”
I nodded in gratitude, then turned my gaze to Noor.
She looked at all of us, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as her resolve battled against her fear. “You’re all insane,” she said, her voice filled with irritation. Then, after a long pause, she sighed and threw her hands up. “Fine! But don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you’re all going to die, I might as well make sure you die fighting.”
I gave her a nod of thanks, which she returned with a **** but beautiful smile.
“Well then,” I said, stepping into the center of the room and extending my hand. “Ready to fight?”
One by one, they joined me, each placing a hand over mine.
“For Delphi,” Ikaro said.
“For the Oracle,” Iris added.
“For survival,” Basilius murmured.
“For the gods’ will,” Entinos intoned.
“For all of us,” Noor said softly.
“Let’s do this,” I said, and together we cheered, a united **** against the darkness waiting for us outside.