What I'm really looking for this week is an idea where to go from here; if y'all want more short stories, I'm giving you the ultimatum of breaking our previous records for suggestions; that means I need at least two (or one request each from two seperate people). Until the previous record is broken, you can expect rants, thoughts and tangents to start occupying these Thursday posts. Maybe that's what you want; maybe it isnt; maybe you should tell me your opinion on the matter? Anyway, I will quit wasting time.
Act ii
Chapter 6
(Chorus)
With players gathered and die cast
The time has come for our pawns to advance
Rio remembered a time (about a week ago), when Achilles little performance would have summoned nearly every available unit of the Las Vegas police department; however, the new sheriff’s of Las Vegas (deputized by the no longer hiding mob running the town) didn’t really care about a guy who cut up some monsters. The crowd which witnessed the act still maintained interest in the Greek, and expressed it by continuing to follow him.They had waited patiently, as Achilles rinsed the fury blood off his body in the nearest of the casino’s fountains; obediently following him without any command, when he remained silent and began to walk down the road, toward the nearest “Come Back Soon” sign.
The tailing entourage made up for their hosts’ muteness; talking about what they witnessed, watching it again on their cell phones, flagging other people down and reenacting the events for them. They maintained a distance from the armored man; for their fear of Achilles was only surmounted by their interest in him. Occasionally a new comer who hadn’t witnessed the events themselves, would shout, “Kill something else!” only to find their request met with continued hush.
They were nearly out of the city, coming up on the final casino near the outskirts when Rio realized how unpromising the prospect of this quest would be, if it were done in silence; naturally he decided to rectify the situation.
“Aaaaaaaaah man, am I parched! Are you parched? Cuz I’m pretty damn parched. How bout we stop for a drink?”
Achilles continued walking.
“Come on man! Just oooooone drink! My treat!” he added trying to sweeten the deal.
The crowd cheered, but Achilles was unfazed.
Rio turned to face the audience, “Well I ugh…actually meant for him…ah but what the hell! Somewhere’s gotta have a happy hour right now!”
The crowd cheered louder.
Rio ran to catch up to Achilles, “What do you say hero? The people have spoken!”
“No.”
The crowd’s noise digressed to booing at the prospect of no free alcohol; the protest was quickly silenced by a glance shot from Achilles, capable of freezing a gorgon.
“Awe come on! Your fans were so excited! Just one drink, then questing, yeah?” he smiled his most charming smile.
An unseen voice in the crowd spoke in Achilles silence, “What are you questing for?”
Rio turned around, more than willing to talk to anyone who wanted to listen; “You know I’m not sure on all the details. All I know is we’re looking for some fr…” was the extent of his sentence before Achilles hand clasped over his mouth.
“Don’t tell people what we are doing, you idiot!” he said, removing his hand from Rio’s face.
“Why not?”
Achilles looked from the walking herd of inebriation, back toward the demigod he accompanied; responding, “Safety issues.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look can we discuss this later?”
“Hell no! If I’m in mortal danger I damn well want to know about it!”
“At the present moment you are not…however…” Achilles glance shifted back toward their audience, “ugh…look, how about we get that drink.”
The crowd’s excitement erupted.
***
The line said to separate fear and paranoia, is a fine one: Pan was neither sure what signified the line, nor where the difference between the sides lay; but she felt certain she had become a resident on the paranoid side. Nearly a week had passed sense the events at the courthouse, and she still refused to step from the sanctuary of her home.She was convinced, if her boss had been disintegrated for defending her mathematical proof, a fate much worse was waiting for her, being the actual discoverer. This fear, diluted her into believing she was safe at home; mostly because nothing had happened to her there and largely because of her newly developed astraphobia (which stemmed not from a fear of the “good” lightning, which struck ill advised golfers, but the “bad” boss killing lighting, she knew the gods had waiting for her).
Reality was threatening to challenge Pan’s fears, for her food supply was running low. Faced with the choice to stay home and starve or go outside and be vaporized, Pan began to consider the pros and cons: If she stayed home, her life would last until starving to death; if she left her home, she may be able to get food, but would probably be atomized by divine light, dying quickly. Both choices shared morbid ends; yet if the end must be morbid, she decided it should be quick. The decision, in no way, made the actual task of leaving any easier.
Fear is fear, and the feeling rooting her home was not that. Pan felt as if there was something she must know before she ventured forth; a piece of information she must have that could resolve any of her uncertainties. The feeling consumed her; perhaps if she turned on the news she could find this elusive factoid.
Locally, things were running as smoothly as possible. The only excitement for the day, coming from a riot some centaurs caused. Her city was having a relatively quiet day with the living, breathing myths of yore. World news revealed, no one from earth had defeated any of the Olympian generals yet, but polling showed Odysseus to be the most challenged. The top story belonged to National news and occurred in Las Vegas. Sources (confirmed by video) had reported a man, single handedly slewing four furies.
Pan found the images brutal, but none the less impressive.
“And who would be there to congratulate this impressive gladiator?” pressed the anchorwoman, “none other than near-do-well Hollywood bad boy, Rio Dythrab,” the video switched to the notorious partier, emerging from the crowd, applauding the hero.
The images on Pan’s television caused the muscles in her face to fail for the second time in a week. She paused the channel to take a closer look at the man on screen. He had Rio’s hair, his smile, he even had the flask she’d given him on their one year anniversary, just visible in his left pocket, under a gaudy horn hanging from his belt (that only he could successfully make look attractive). It was definitely her ex; she resumed the news.
“And what is the son of the famous Dareia Dythrab doing with this warrior? Sources indicate the duo is on some sort of quest. What they’re after and where they are going is still unknown, but more details to come when we receive them.”
The information Pan had witnessed was still attempting to process in her mind, when two men and a horse came barreling through her wall and into her television. Screaming, she snatched her can of mace from the coffee table and began to unload with reckless abandon toward the commotion. As the can’s stream began to spittle; Pan reexamined her target and noticed, rather than it being two men and a horse as originally thought, there was actually one man (with a swollen red face, coughing uncontrollably) who received the brunt of her attack and a completely unscathed centaur. The centaur used the distraction the non lethal deterrent provided, to forcefully kick the mace victim through another of Pan’s walls.
The creature smiled and winked at her, saying, “Thanks sweets,” before galloping through its newly created exit.
Pan stared after the beast for a moment, and began to truly appreciate her disdain for feelings.
***
Back in Las Vegas, Rio and Achilles’ party had just arrived at a bar.“BARKEEP! A round for everyone! And put it on my tab!”
The bartender, all too familiar with Rio, was happy to oblige.
Achilles led the boisterous youth to the bar, in an effort to distance their conversation from wandering ears.
“You are currently not in mortal danger; however, the more people you tell about the quest the more arduous it will become. There are forces that will kill you, simply to prevent the rise of a new Olympian.”
“I see…I didn’t know that; Athena never mentioned it.”
“Of course she didn’t! Athena assumed you would be bright enough to figure that much out on your own. I know better. I understand you have to be force fed information to understand basic principles; and that’s why I am here, to hold your hand and make sure you don’t get yourself killed, being a moron.”
“Hey…”
“Look, it’s still not safe to elaborate anymore here. We need to slip away from this crowd and leave on our own.”
“Alright, let me cause a distraction.”
“That’s not what I meant…” Achilles attempted to protest, but was cut short by Rio’s climbing onto the bar.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he bellowed, clinking a beer bottle against the minotaur horn on his belt, “Three rounds of jelloshots for my loyal followers!!!”
Rio decided, cheering meant consent and dropped behind the bar next to the bartender, “After these rounds of shots, go ahead and close my tab; but be sure to tip yourself its total.”
“Yes Sir!”
Shifting his attention back to his guide, “How’s that? Once those start getting served we can slip out the side exit,” his grin saying he’d implored similar ruses before.
Rather than pass the time in silence with Achilles; Rio advanced on the waitress loading a tray with shots. They parted ways when her tray was full, but not before she handed him a napkin with her phone number on it.
The lady killer, made his way out from behind the bar and back to his companion, “Drinks are heading out; now’s our chance.”
By the time the second round was being served Rio and Achilles were nearly out of the casino; and with the coming of the third round, came the realization the duo was absent and the groups’ acceptance of lacking motivation to find them.
With the number of journeyers reduced back to two, Achilles was still remaining silent.
“Soooooooooo….” pressed Rio, “Who would want me dead? Another god?”
Feeling comfortable to speak, but still uninterested in small talk, Achilles responded, “No, all of the Olympians agreed with your ascension. The dangers lie with the children of earth.”
“The monsters and stuff? But why?”
“Let’s just say they aren’t particularly fond of the gods right now and will try to take a shot at Olympus whenever possible.”
“Um…okay…”
Achilles felt the conversation had ended and chose not to respond to Rio’s directionless thought.
Realizing the ancient hero had no further interest in the previous topic, the god-to-be tried a new direction, “What’s the deal with you Achilles? What brings you back and why to my aid?”
“I’ve ‘been back,’ as you put it, for centuries. I was chosen, along with five other heroes to be generals of the Olympian army. As for the fortune of helping you, the gods asked me and I accepted.”
“Why? You don’t really seem excited about it.”
“Why? You know who I am; even though I fought in a war, centuries before your society began to rise. My legend has transcended centuries, civilizations and gods! My name is immortal and I have accepted this quest to ensure its longevity. Trust me, I would much rather be in the coliseum, battling your modern warriors; but I have the opportunity to raise a god. That is what will be remembered. The details of our journey are erroneous; but with its success, my name will live on.”
“I still don’t see the point. Those people back there, they didn’t believe you were you; so why care about the fame?”
“It doesn’t matter if they know me personally; but even they knew my name and my story. When I finally pass on my name will remain, and I will do all I can to assure it sees the end of time.”
“That seems really pessimistic.”
“I say it’s realistic. I know how society works; what we do in life has little effect on anything, but if done right, it will be remembered throughout history.”
“I guess…I never really thought of it like that.”
The conversation ended and silence remained until they were outside the city. Achilles stopped and looked at Rio; unsure of what he should be doing, he took the opportunity to light a cigarette.
“What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know…what am I waiting for?”
“Do you plan to walk through miles of desert?”
“Honestly, I’d prefer not to.”
“Then use your horn!”
“That just summons that Custard thing.”
“His name is Custo and he’s a griffin, not a dessert!”
“Okay Custo…I still don’t see a point? I’ve got you for protection right now.”
“You really are completely clueless. We can use him for transportation!”
“huh?”
“We sit on its back and it will fly us to a destination!”
“Oh no, that doesn’t sound like a good idea at all. Can’t we just steal a car or something?”
“Steal a car? Do you see many cars on the road? And what do we do after we find one; take the highway to the fruit of ambrosia?”
“That sounds good to me.”
“They grow on an island!”
“Ah. Well, we could rent a helicopter.”
“We cannot tell people about the quest!”
“Come on, I doubt that anyone renting helicopters is going to run and tell a satyr what we are doing.”
Its just so happens, a satyr had found Las Vegas rather entertaining and thus decided to make the city its home. This same satyr had recognized Achilles during his little show, and had decided to follow the hero, in hopes of learning what mischief Olympus was up too. The creature had been successful in remaining hidden and following, even after the massive crowd was abandoned; sniggering to itself over Rio’s particular diction in this argument.
“Just call the griffin.”
“But I don’t want to ride on a creepy cat-bird!”
“It’s our best option: Call the damn griffin!”
Rio removed the horn from his belt and looked at it suspiciously; after a long drag of his cigarette he said to Achilles, “I get this sneaking feeling you don’t like me much.”
“I simply want this quest done.”
“I think, things will run a lot smoother if we get along, so let’s figure out the issue and address it.”
“The ‘issue’ is simple; I am Achilles, the greatest hero ever and I’m stuck babysitting an imbecile god want to be!”
“Well, I definitely see how that could suck.”
Achilles was surprised to find a chuckle escape, “Yes, yes it certainly does.”
“And a laugh! We are making progress! Well, here’s my deal; I don’t know what the hell’s going on. It seems there’s an awful lot I’m not being told, but I’m just going with it. That said, if you feel I’m being a pain in the ass about something, just let me know.”
“Rio, you are being a pain in the ass about the griffin.”
Rio appreciated the candid statement, and expressed his feelings by laughter. Achilles, who spoke the sentence, was pleased with the honesty of the situation and decided to partake in a laugh as well.
The son of Dionysus, composed himself through deep pull of smoke, “Alright, alright I will call the damn bird; but if it keeps giving me that freaky eye…we may have to discuss a new deal,” pressing the horn against his lips, he blew with all of his might, for which the horn expressed no response.
Looking to the sky, Rio could see his efforts were not in vain, because the griffin sailed through the air and landed beside its master; making some form of purring or cooing only capable by a griffin. The bird was still unnerving with its stare.
“Damnit. You wanna drive?” he asked Achilles.
In a single fluid motion, the warrior leaped from the ground and rested on the back of the griffin. In a much less graceful attempt, Rio scrambled up the creatures side and unsteadily onto its back, directly behind Achilles.
“Um….what do I hold onto?”
“The loose skin with fur on it. Never grab the feathers.”
Rio grabbed two large tufts, turning his knuckles white. In an attempt to settle the greenhorn’s fear, Achilles turned to him and said, “Just so you know; Custo will never let you fall.”
“Oh…”was as far Rio was able to articulate a coherent sentence, before transitioning to screaming profanities as Custo launched off the ground and through the air.
At this point the satyr tag along, realized he could pursue no farther and was forced to make a decision on how to proceed with the information he gathered. His comprehension of the situation was limited, but he knew if Olympus was involved, there would be plenty of mischief to be had. A tribe of minotaur who had claimed the Nevada desert as home, would be the ideal recipients of his data. Minotaur were brash and aggressive, but they were still higher on the children of earth food chain then satyrs; if he gave them the information, they would definitely spread the word and start the gears of war. Mischief would be had and the satyr would safely watch.
By: Michael Wilshire
Fyi: if you missed the first 5 chapters of he book, you can find them archived in the may link!
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