Chapter 5

Here it is! Chapter 5! The final entry in the first act of the story! This is bittersweet, becuase its the last chapter I intend to post for free :/ However, I am prone to compromises; so if we can get people to comment on chapters and you know join the blog, I'm just saying ya'll might be able to coerce me...            

Chapter 5

(chorus)

The game is ready

Now only the players remain

           Five days had passed since the earth had Greek mythology shoved down its gullet and though life went on, indigestion remained. Existence seemed content to parade around a façade of normality, while satyrs scampered about it.
          Nearly all forms of continental government crumbled; yet, humanity and its inclusive fear of change seemed unwilling to address such radical revolutions. If the guns and bombs mankind had adapted so well for self genocide were rather ineffective upon these "monsters," that’s okay; as long as the monsters are not waging war. Just because there is no longer a bureaucratic spider-web to tell people how much the wads of paper they carry in their pockets are worth, doesn’t mean people will stop spending said wads. Sure, gas prices went for a cosmic journey when the government stopped regulating, but driving greatly lost an appeal when people realized just how fond minotaur can be of charging bumpers. And though, you may not hop on an airplane for fear of winged beast collision, you could find solace in the confidence a gorgon, probably, would not make you a permanent statue in your own bed. There was always the chance that some beast of legend may turn you into a snack, but with the massive number of casualties in the first few days and the even greater numbers of survivors, the population was willing to take the chance that the bad things would happen to somebody else.
              Many people attributed the successful transition of the new way of life, to the survival of the internet. Specialist were confused; for all explainable purposes the internet should not have remained yet, after a god unleashed its vengeance and governments withered under competition, bloggers were still able to express their irritation and specialist could communicate their confusion. The ongoing existence of the internet, was due to a piece of information no specialist was privy too; since the late nineties the internet had become self aware (an offended result to the slander it received over the Y2K scare); and as with any sentient being, it became concerned with preserving its conscious. In an act of technological Darwinism, the internet took refuge in the computer of a Mrs. Adelle Ossify, an eighty year old mother of seven and grandmother of twenty-one in Tucson, Arizona; her only use for her computer was viewing pictures of her grandchildren, which she seldom did because the damn thing was so slow and she was convinced it had a mind of its own.
             Other people chose to credit success to the smaller towns, which had been willing to revert to a self contained village lifestyle; and the cities, which had been willing to believe someone would eventually fix things. One city in particular was adept at laying responsibility on the rest of the world; Las Vegas, Nevada. The city of sin barely hiccupped at the events that rocked the world; the Mecca of debauchery had been so unaffected by the transgressions that Rio Dythrab had successfully run a bender through it, from the Wednesday of the trial and was only winding it down on the morning of the Monday after.
             After witnessing the trial on a bar’s television, Rio decided to extend his Vegas get away to allow for waiting out the chaos. Waiting out the chaos had become the excuse for the blur that was the last five days; which now culminated with him standing on the Roman themed balcony of his penthouse suite, at five in the morning wearing nothing more, than his favorite aviator sunglasses and a grin.He took a long drag of his cigarette while staring at the bed in his hotel room. The two naked dancers from one of the clubs he had visited (names eluded him at the moment), currently slept on the mattress; but at this point prospect of a good days sleep was more enticing, than any fantasy they had already fulfilled.        
            His attention shifted to the skyline view from his balcony. The sun was just rising, but the day already looked overcast. The morning was a slowly lighting gray, rather than the bright exploding red of sunrise. The world looked barren and calm, only disturbed by the furies currently circling through the air. Rio wasn’t sure how he knew the winged serpents were called furies (he assumed it was some buried knowledge from a class he had taken or perhaps a movie he’d seen), but he knew for certain they were furies; spawned from the blood of Ouranos, their soul duty pursuing sinners for their masters’ the Erinyes. Rio chuckled at the thought of the buffet this city presented the beasts.          
                       There was a bird in the Vegas sky along with the furies. Rio noticed it and took another deep drag while trying to identify it. This bird seemed to be much smaller and white; upon deeper study it also seemed to be flying directly toward his hotel. In another puff it was revealed to be a white owl, most definitely flying toward his hotel and possibly for his floor. The cigarette was concluded with affirmation that the bird was most definitely a white owl traveling toward his floor, as it landed next to him on the balcony’s railing.          
                   The scoundrel and the avian stared at each other, heads cocked; as if neither quite understood the others motive’s. After a moment the owl began to glow with the light of the heavens and manifested into a striking blonde woman, clad in brilliant silver and gold armor.                          Without a pause Rio grinned and asked, "How ya’ doin’ doll?"

            She blushed and stared at the ground; to remind herself who she was and why she was there. Straightening her posture she responded, "I am Athena; Goddess of Wisdom and War. I have come before you Rio Dythrab to charge you with a divine quest."

            "Is that it? Kinda seems like a waste to me. I’m sure I can think of better things for us to do while you’re away from Olympus," he replied, making his way into the room.

             Athena was surprised to find herself staring after him; she shook her head to clear her mind before following. He was standing behind the bar in the room when she entered.

              "Would you like a drink, Ms. Athena?"

              "No…"

              "Ah, so it’s Mrs?"

              "Huh? Oh, no!"

             "Phew, what a relief. I’d have to say the market would be wasted if you weren’t on it," he concluded as he made himself a white Russian.

             Athena was finding it difficult to focus, between his relentless flirting and lack of wardrobe.

             "Perhaps this would be better discussed if you were dressed?"

             "That’d be impossible, love. I never wear clothes before seven am."

             "You know you can’t lie to a god? We can see anything."

             "Oh good, then I’m sure you’ve seen this before. If that’s the case I really don’t need clothes. Would you care to make yourself more comfortable and join me?"

             "I’m fine, thank you."

             "Your loss," he replied, making his way to the front of the bar.

             "You seem to be handling this whole ‘god appearing before you’ thing well."

             "Ha," he replied while grinning, "Honestly, I’d worry about a man who didn’t graciously receive such a beautiful deity."

              He is relentless. He is good. He is trouble, "Thank you for the flattery; but I really have come with a charge from the gods."

             "What kind of charge?"

              "It is a quest you must embark on because of who you are."

              "Is that so? And just who am I, beautiful?"

              "You are Rio, son of Dionysus; through your veins courses the blood of a god and this quest will help you to realize that."

             "Wait…so, I’m a god?"

              Athena giggled, "No. You are the son of a god; that makes you a demigod."

             "Uh-huh…so what does that entail?"

             "As of now; nothing. Although it may explain your luck with women," she gestured toward the bed, "and your lust for alcohol," indicating to the cup in his hand.

             "Well, I guess I should thank dad for the charm," he said smiling.

              At that moment Athena recognized the uncanny resemblance he shared with his father; their smiles were the same.

             "You certainly will, but first you must embark on the quest."

             "You still haven’t told me what kind of quest it is."

             "It is the kind of quest the gods charge; a heroic quest, the type to try your limits, but for which the rewards are divine."

             "Yeeeeeeah…I don’t know about that; I’m not really a hero and I’m pretty happy with my limits not doing much."

             "You don’t even know what the quest is!"

             "Meh, that’s okay. I’m not much for questing. I like things to just come to me. Why spend all night looking for a couple girls, when a prettier one will just fly through my window, you know?" the devilish grin just seemed to emphasize his charm.

             "Yes…well…this is simply a quest for fruit."

             "For fruit?"

             "Yes, but a very special fruit. It’s called ambrosia and is used to make the drink of the gods. It only grows in one place on earth and is all but extinct."

             "Sooooooo, you want me to be a waiter for the gods? I’m sorry sweets, but that’s really not helping to persuade me."

             "The fruit is not for us. We have endless supplies of ambrosia. The fruit is for you. If you succeed on this quest; obtain the sacred fruit, craft it into a drink and consume it, you Rio, will have earned your place in Olympus."

             "Hold on. Your saying if I do this, then I get to be god?"

             "Yes."

             "How dangerous is this fruit?"

             "There will be great perils, but you will not face them alone. We will send you with a fierce and noble steed, as well as a guide hand chosen from the Generals of our Olympian Army."

             "I don’t get it. If becoming a god is as easy as drinking then…it’s just weird."

            "Not anyone who consumes ambrosia will ascend to a god; only those with divine blood shall ascend."

             "Okay…but why me? There are no other godly bastards running around?"

            Athena found herself chuckling at the question, "No, there actually are no other demigods. We were not to interact with humans for a long time, but apparently your father broke the rules."

             "He just knows how to have a good time," Rio paused for a moment, "I still don’t know about all of this. What do I have to do as a god? Won’t I have to answer prayers and crap?"

             She found his ignorance humorous, "You decide the rules of your worship."

             "And what about this Olympus place? I don’t even know if I’ll like it. I’m kind of partial to earth, I don’t want to be banned from it."

             "As you can tell from recent events and my being here, the rules have changed; you will be free to return at your whim."

             Rio remained quiet considering his options; Athena, the masterful tactician that she is, recognized his silence as his first moment of weakness. She decided to seize the opportunity to tilt his consideration.

            Removing her helm and allowing her flowing gold hair to fall, Athena endearingly looked into, where she believed his eyes were, hidden behind his dark sunglasses, and said, "Rio, in all my time there has never been such an easy quest, with this kind of payoff. You aren’t slaying beast after beast, fighting an epic war or sailing against the gods; you are picking some fruit, making a drink and becoming great," as she finished the statement, Athena was forced to look away, for fear Rio may recognize she was hiding the whole truth from him. If the gods could not convince Rio to join them, all would be lost.

             "Oh what the hell! You only live once, right? Where are these fruits?"

             Excitement burst from Athena, "Excellent! The fruits grow on an island in the far west, so far in fact it may be nearer from the east; there is a single tree in the middle of the island, a glorious sight, on which ambrosia grows: but it is protected"

             There was a knock at the door. Confused, Rio made his way toward the sound and investigated through the peephole. The source was more confusion; why would an actor from the hotel be at his door in full gladiator attire. The only conclusion Rio could fathom was the ideal male specimen must be involved with one of the two lovely dancers currently residing in his bed. Rio never considered himself much of a fighter, he’d taken his fair share of punches but he preferred to talk his way out of things. Unfortunately, the man at his door seemed more concerned with actions than words.

              As he turned around the presence of the woman in armor reminded him he was currently in godly company and thus probably protected from harm, "There’s a large man outside my door who may or may not be dating one of the young ladies in my bed; but I assume with you here I’ve got nothing to worry about, sooooooo," with that he turned and opened the door before Athena could speak and stepped fully naked into the doorway, "Can I help you, mate?"

              The gladiator stared at him, "You must be Rio."

             "What if I am, bub? You clearly know who I am and you came knocking on my door, so why don’t you tell me what the hell this is about!"

               Before Rio could react the man had drawn the prop spear from his back and used it to sweep Rio’s feet out from under him. Once his back had been thoroughly introduced to the ground, the man advanced and pressed the tip of the, now revealed to most definitely be real and not a prop, spear against Rio’s throat.

               "Achilles! That’s enough!" yelled Athena.

              The soldier theatrically spun his spear away from Rio and stowed it behind the shield on his back.

             "Rio, this is your guide and protector for your quest. General in the Olympian army, Achilles."

              As he began to lift himself off the floor, Rio looked at Greek hero, "The Achilles? As in the heel guy from the Trojan war?"

                "Do you know of another Achilles?"

                Rio looked down at the feet of his guide and noticed his sandals were of common Grecian design, however slightly altered to allow for an armored heel cup.

                "I learned my lesson once and it most certainly will not happen again."

               "Understandable. Well as long as you never trip me like that again, I will have to admit I feel safe in your company."

               Athena interjected, "We the gods, felt Achilles would be the best protector on your journey; but we offer another aid," she removed a gold plated minotaur horn from her belt and blew into it, releasing no sound.

              She handed the horn to Rio, "Use this to summon our gift to you; a guardian," as she finished a piercing shriek penetrated the room from the balcony, as if a lion and eagle were competing for the loudest cry. The source of the noise was a winged beast with, the body of a lion, back legs of a bird and head of an eagle; which comfortably came to roost on the balcony.

                Athena beckoned to the creature, "This is Custo, he is a griffin and he will be your guardian." 

                 Rio stared at the beast. It was unlike any creature he had ever seen; it seemed to stare back at him, admiring him; wanting his love and approval.

               "Custo was created specifically for you; as such his commitment to you will be total. You needn’t worry about feeding him; he can handle that on his own. Simply, blow the horn to summon him, he will hear it no matter where he is."

                 Rio stared at the horn in his hand, then back at the strange feline bird, "Sounds great, as long as he doesn’t leave dead mice or horses on my door step we should get along swimmingly."

                 Achilles chuckled.

                "With these heavenly gifts Rio, you are prepared for the hardships you will face. I must take my leave," Athena said as she put her helm back on.

               "Awe, you’re leaving? Don’t I get a good luck kiss?"

               She smiled, "Perhaps when you complete your quest; but until then, I will be watching you," with her closing statement, Athena began to brilliantly glow and transform back into an owl; only to fly out the patio door, when complete.

               Rio followed her with his eyes for a moment, before his attention was returned to the griffin on his balcony. He walked closer to the beast and spoke loudly, "I Don’t Need Your Services Right Now! You Can Go!"

              Custo remained, staring quizzically at his master.

            "You Go Now!" he implored a shooing motion to deliver his point, and followed it with the statement, "shoo-shoo!"

              The griffin ruffled its feathers and fur; then proceeded to lie down. Convinced the animal had no intentions of leaving Rio advanced to the sliding glass door and shut it. With the griffin successfully sealed away from the occupants of his bed, Rio turned his attention to the armored warrior in his room.

              "Alright champ, what do we do now?"

               Achilles rolled his eyes, "Now, we leave and begin this forsaken quest," no attempts were made to hide his contempt.
          "Right now, but it’s so early?" Rio responded while drinking his white Russian, which had successfully survived the introduction to Achilles.

              "The sooner we begin, the sooner it will end. Let’s go."
              The demigod advanced on the hero and rested his free hand on the armored shoulder, "Look, I haven’t been to sleep in a few days; let me take a nap, say good bye to these two lovely ladies and then we can go, yeah?"

               Achilles made no reply and simply stared at the hand on his shoulder.

               It struck Rio, his best interest may lie in removing his hand from the warrior and so he did, "How about we meet in the bar at two? Just give me until two and then we can do all the questing, huh?"

               Silence met Rio’s plea; silence which beckoned him to down the rest of his drink and shift uneasily.

              With an irritated sigh of consent, Achilles walked toward the front door and opened it, "Two O’clock and don’t be late!" he emphasized slamming the door and never looking back.

               Rio went back to the bar, mixed another white Russian, said, "fuck it," downed the spirit, closed his balcony’s blinds (if he didn’t have to see the griffin it would be as if it weren’t there) and crawled into bed. His entrance roused the young lady on his left.

              "Hey," she said, half asleep.

               "Hey to you," he replied, kissing her.

               "Hey," rebutted the young lady on his right, not wanting to be left out.

               "And hey to you too," he offered, turning to kiss her.

***

              The time was two forty-nine and Achilles still had found no sign of Rio. In the past forty-nine minutes he had made rounds to every bar, restaurant and drink vendor the casino offered. He accosted the bartenders, servers and host in every establishment, describing Rio; it turned out nearly every employee was familiar with the gentleman in question, but at this point none had seen him today. Unwilling to be defeated Achilles made them all agree to page him in the events of Rio’s arrival.
             The ordeal had been complicated by the incessant tourists, all of which found it necessary to be nuisances, until he conceded a picture. The first family to approach him elicited a feeling of pride; in all these centuries, he was still receiving recognition. The pride was quickly stifled when the same family ran over to a casino actor wearing a gladiator costume and again pleaded for a picture. The swarming continued over his expedition throughout the casino. His irritation grew; after all, he was Achilles! General in the Olympian Army! Hero of the Trojan War! These mere mortals had no right to bother him!

            He had just been considering the fate of the next mortal to pester him, when a drunk couple staggered up and asked him for a picture.

           "ENOUGH!!!" he exclaimed as he drew his spear and drove it into the margarita cart before him, using his momentum to carry him up, "I do not work here! I am not some actor, paid to amuse you! I am Achilles! The greatest warrior the world has ever known and I demand your respect!"

            Applauds were the chosen response of the audience.

           "What are you doing? Stop clapping this isn’t a performance you fools!"

            Laughter was the next consensus. The drunk man responsible for Achilles outburst tapped his foot, "Ah man that was awesome! Do we tip you for that or what?" he asked, with a five in hand.

            "I don’t want your money! I am Achilles!" he roared, kicking the drunk’s hand.

            "Bullshit! Achilles is dead, asshole!" yelled an unseen heckler.

            "And until a few days ago, you all believed god dead and we know how that worked out for you!"

             A hushed silence fell over the crowd; clearly they believed the joke to be in bad taste.

            "Look dick, I just want a picture! Is that too much to ask?"

            "Yes it is! I am a hero, not your whore!"

            The drunk was now speaking with the courage only found after a few too many, "Oh yeah? If you’re some big time hero, then prove it! If not, then shut your mouth and take the fucking picture!" he emphasized his point by poking Achilles in the shin, which was currently at his eye level.
           The legend remained on the cart, simmering in anger. Upon reaching, what he felt to be an acceptable way to precede; Achilles, in a threatening manner, spun his spear toward the audience before sheathing it and leaping off his makeshift stage. His landing brought him toe to toe with the inebriated pest. Removing his shield, he used it to push past the drunk and through the crowd.

           "If you want to see a hero, follow me!"

           The crowd obeyed.

           They followed their armored Sheppard all the way to the casinos entrance, adding to their flock on the journey.

             Achilles ended the parade on the sidewalk outside the building. He looked to the sky to ensure there were furies present. The initial days of beast invasion had led to a number of Vegas-goers deaths; however after the preliminary gorging the beasts had taken up to only eating people who passed out on the streets, in an attempt to not eat themselves to death. Coincidentally, after the massive influx of furies into Las Vegas, the homeless problem that plagued the city had nearly disappeared.

              When it came to throwing a spear, none have ever lived who could outmatch Achilles; even with his unparalleled abilities, nailing a fury from this distance would be difficult. There could be no room for error, this display had to be decisive; he turned to find the drunk who instigated him and was surprised to see how large the assembly had grown. Luckily, the drunk was still in front of the crowd: Achilles smiled at him and beckoned him forward. The impaired man looked at his girlfriend with a face that said, he really had no interest in answering any beckons; only to find a girlfriend who was having a difficult time focusing on anything, but more than willing to push him forward, none the less.

              The crowd applauded.

              Achilles maintained his smile toward the man; even when the man was within arms range, grabbed by the collar, pulled forward and head-butted. Blood spilled from the unconscious man’s broken nose, as Achilles through him into the street.

              An audible gasp escaped the crowd, "Real heroic, jerk!" someone yelled.

              "Wait!" barked Achilles, his eyes trained on the furies; waiting for one to attack the sinful bait he laid out.

             The dive began. Without hesitation, Achilles drew his spear, pausing momentarily to take aim, before letting fly the weapon. The spear hit its target destroying the controlled dive the fury had been on; and instead bringing the snake crashing down to the ground where it rolled to a rest at Achilles’ feet.

                He pulled the spear free, knowing that with the blood of this fury spilled, more would be coming. A blood curdling screech rang through the Las Vegas strip as three more furies dove toward Achilles. When the first one was close, he aggressively introduced the serpent to his shield, knocking it away. Using the inertia from the blow, he drove his spear through the throat of the second; leaving the spear in the fallen beast he rushed forward toward the third attacker, drawing his sword and cleaving a wing from the beast.

           The injured reptile showered the gladiator in blood as it crashed into its felled companion. Achilles approached the wounded predator and quickly pierced its neck, permanently resting the threat. The hero took a moment to put his sword away, and draw his spear out of the fury his latest victim lay under. The spear had only just tasted freedom from its cadaverous landing, when it was hurled through the air again; this time making a carcass out of the fury which had become acquainted with Achilles shield.

                 The man of legends turned toward the crowd, his body soaked with the blood of myths.

                 The crowd was silent.

                 Slowly, one person began to clap and make their way out of the herd.

                Rio stepped forward, cigarette in mouth, hair unkempt, applauding.

               " This," he said, "is by no means the bar."

                The time was three-seventeen.


By: Michael Wilshire