“What exactly are we even here for, Selene?” a young man’s voice questioned, his words distracted as he sent another arrow streaking through the air to land, with inhuman precision, between the eyes of one of the many zombie-like creatures surrounding the duo.
Selene flew the air in a streak of black and silver—the clusters of starlight adorning her dark attire giving her a faint luster as she moved. The costume had been a gift from Athena, the Greek goddess of warfare, and provided the young demigoddess the wisdom and battle knowledge a child of Athena would possess. It also protected Selene from almost all forms of attack, however, her natural durability inherited from her father already made her nearly invincible.
With a single long, slender sword held in her hands, the younger Liafador legacy moved at blinding speed to pierce and decapitate the swarm of undead warriors that circled her and her companion—who executed nearly as many enemies as Selene did with arrows that seemed to never miss.
She had known Logan Woods from a young age, the handsome boy several years her senior at the age of twenty-one. Selene had spent a large portion of her youth with the son of Apollo, playing in the gardens of Olympus and sparring during combat training. Their lives had taken slightly separate directions, as Selene assumed her role as a member of the prolific Liafador family and Logan became a premier demigod hero of Olymus; however, whenever the two did find each other’s company again, it was as though no time had ever passed between them.
As the son of Apollo, Logan had never found any difficulty with a bow and arrow. The gold bow held expertly in his hands gleamed with the divine craftsmanship of Hephaestus, the weapon a gift to the demigod archer on his eighteenth birthday. Logan’s bravery, dedication to the pantheon, and finesse in battle had quickly made him a favorite among the Twelve Olympians, many of them granting him magical weapons or divine blessings. However, even when utilizing the most poorly crafted bow, Selene had never once witnessed Logan miss his mark.
“I told you,” she said in a short grunt, running her sword through the abdomen of one undead before using its decrepit body to shield herself from an arrow shot at her by another reanimated corpse standing several yards away. Letting the lifeless figure on her sword slide off and drop her feet, Selene had already traveled faster than light to remove the head of the archer that had attacked her. “My mother told me she was noticing an abnormal amount of supernatural activity here, particularly necromancy. She picks up on these things,” the raven-haired demigoddess finished as Logan shot down the last of the undead.
With the bodies of dozens of ‘zombies’ now lying motionless at the demigods’ feet, they could get a good look at the expansive entryway of the Ancient Greek palace her mother’s directions had led them to. Once the home of the warrior king of Sparta Leonidas I, the grandeur architectural structure should have eroded centuries ago, however, someone had preserved the marble foundation and traditional Greek columns that prevented the palace from becoming just another ancient ruin. Upon entering the palace, Selene and Logan had been instantly assaulted by the league of reanimated warriors, confirming Selene’s mother’s suspicions that something, or someone, had been lurking within the ancient palace under the gods’ noses. Something Selene and Logan had been tasked with eliminating.
“Come on, my mom said the throne room should be this way,” Selene said, her leveled voice holding an enigmatic appeal to it. Since the day she was born, Selene had existed as a mystery to those around her. She offered little insight to her thoughts, and lived by a show-but-don’t-tell attitude that forced curious speculators to consistently attempt to understand the young Liafador. From the ever-changing appearance of her hair to whether or not her allegiance to Olympus was sincere, Selene had always had everyone, in every facet of her complex life, mesmerized by the mystery of her persona.
Selene and Logan waked side by side through the many rooms and corridors of the royal palace, the son of Apollo standing at a near foot taller than the demigoddess. His impressive stature, athletic physique and caramel skin tone paired bright green eyes made him easily attractive, something Selene had never bothered to notice until their recent partnership for her mother’s task. Watching him from the corner of her rich brown eyes as they cautiously made their way down a stretching hallway leading to a set of imposing double doors, she firmly decided to keep these feelings to herself, for fear of the effect on their friendship should her affections not be returned. Besides, she wasn’t sure herself whether her feelings were entirely real.
“This looks like it leads to the throne room. You ready, Liafador?” he asked with an impish light in his jade eyes that was both mischievous and charming. Pulling an arrow from his quiver and readying it to be released from his bow, Logan waited for a nod of approval from the daughter of Hecate before the demigod duo simultaneously pushed through the heavy doors leading to the throne room.
A series of marble columns on either side of the room led to a small staircase that rested below the foot of a dignified throne, where a single figure rested. His olive skin was clad in the traditional armor of an Ancient Greek warrior, however its gold material and the crimson cape flowing from the shoulders of his breastplate implied a more regal status. With an elegant golden wreath resting on his head of jet-black hair, the man appeared no different than many of the other immortal warriors whom had earned a place on Olympus. However as her gaze roamed from his stately armor to the chiseled structure of his face, her attention was instantly seized by the milky-white color that swirled within his irises—their appearance matching that of the undead warriors they had encountered earlier.
Just as Selene’s pouty lips had opened to address the man resting atop the throne, his own mouth moved to fill the space between himself and the demigods with a voice that seemed to originate from two sources at once.
“Selene Liafador and Logan Woods. I must say, I was hoping to find you two dead in my entryway. I hope you didn’t make too big a mess of my palace,” he spoke in a deep, husky voice that was overlapped by something much more cold and sinister. The very sound of it caused Selene’s skin to crawl.
“Your palace?” Selene responded after a moment’s consideration, her voice cautious without losing its confidence. “That would make you…”
“Leonidas, yes. Warrior and King of Sparta. I see someone’s done their research,” he said with an unsettling grin. Something about his movements and expressions reminded Selene of a puppet, as though the man that once dictated Leonidas’ body was no longer in control.
“You died centuries ago,” Logan spoke up beside her, restating information that, to Selene, had already been established. She reminded herself he was a son of Apollo, not Athena.
With a condescending smirk that revealed Leonidas was equally amused by Logan’s stating of the obvious, the Greek king continued. “Very astute of you, son of Apollo. However my mistress has granted me new life, with a new purpose. And a message.”
The moment the undead Leonidas finished speaking, his gold-clad figure leaped from his throne with both hands outstretched, jets of black energy racing toward Selene and Logan.
Despite his slowness where battles of the mind where involved, Logan remained impressively quick when dealing with battles of combat. With surprising speed for merely a demigod, the son of Apollo moved in front of Selene before utilizing photokinetic abilities inherited from his divine father to create a wall of light that protected both demigods from the attack.
“I’m not the first to return, you know. Monsters, the giants, and, eventually, the titans. My mistress will bring them all back to rule Olympus. And once she has the gods at her mercy, the entire world will bow to her power,” Leonidas spoke with a deranged fanaticism, before raising his hand to prepare another blast of the dark energy.
Before he had the chance to attack, Logan released an arrow from his bow that shot straight into the neck of the ancient king. Without so much as flinching, Leonidas pulled the arrow from his flesh, where not a drop of blood spilled.
“Don’t kill the messenger,” he said with a smirk, pulling a sword from a sheath hanging at his side before stepping unhurriedly down the stairs at his throne. “I’m here to let you know my mistresses wants the Hat of Merlin. And she always gets what she wants,” he stated coolly, now reaching the last step and standing level with Selene at the other end of the throne room.
In another attempt to catch the demigods off guard, Leonidas closed half of the distance between them in an impressive display of superhuman speed—but Selene was faster. Darting toward the Greek king to meet him in the middle of the stretch of space between the entrance and the throne, Selene extended her arm to wrap her fingers in an iron vice around Leonidas’ neck, slamming his figure mercilessly against the marble floor beneath them. Letting her naturally cool demeanor escape her, the Liafador demigoddesses locked her golden-brown gaze on his own eyes with a terrifying intensity.
“Who sent you,” she demanded, her grip tightening around the warrior king’s neck.
“She’ll kill you,” he choked out as if he never head her. “First she’ll kill your boyfriend, then she’ll kill anyone else you care about, then she’ll force you to live with the pain and guilt until, one day, she’ll decide to kill you too.”
Before she could respond, Leonidas made an attempt to escape her grasp. He was strong, his head beginning to lift from where she had pinned it to the ground. But she was stronger. Tightening her fingers around his neck she slammed his head into the ground once more, harder than before, to shatter the marble beneath him.
For a moment Selene’s anger threatened to get the best of her, however, she held back the intensity of the emotions burning inside her to respond one last time to the former king of Sparta with a venom in her voice that seemed poisonous to kill all on its own.
“You drew me here to threaten my family, the people I love? Big mistake,” she hissed, her grip on his neck threatened to snap the bone underneath like a toothpick. “And I do believe in killing the messenger. You know why?” she threatened, her lethal voice now dropping to a whisper as she leaned in to speak into Leonidas’ ear as her words escaped likes razor blades through her teeth. “Because it sends a message.”
Pulling her head back, her amber eyes filled with a crimson energy before exploding in beams of heat whose temperature outmatched stars.
Just as the optic beams would have incinerated any remains of the undead king, Leonidas vanished into nothing but mist between her fingers—Selene’s attack destroying only the marble floor where his head had rested only moments before.
In a moment of unrestrained frustration, Selene brought her fist down upon the floor to leave a small crater in the ground, the impact of her strength sending a shockwave that shook the entire palace. Unable to get the possessed king’s words out of her head, she stayed kneeled, her chest rising and falling in frustrated pants, to stare at the spot she had nearly killed him in.
So absorbed in her own mind, she had failed to notice Logan’s approach behind her until his hand rested comfortingly on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Liafador. We’ll get him, and whoever sent him before either of them get to your family.”
Pacified by the sound of his disarming voice, she rose and turned to meet his light green eyes, which seemed to hold the same luster of the sun itself.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, his hand sliding from her shoulder and down her arm to wrap itself between her fingers. Whether the motion was romantic or reassuring, Selene couldn’t decide. But she knew how it felt either way.
Forcing a faint smile across her face, she forced her mind to focus on their next move. “If we’re going to get the Hat of Merlin before whoever brought Leonidas back from the dead, we’re going to need to talk to my sister,” she said, having never considered Maya as her cousin despite their biological relationship. Taking several paces toward the palace’s exit, she turned over her shoulder to grin charmingly at her friend behind her. “You up for it, Woods?”
With a playful smirk shot back her way, Logan jogged up to walk beside her.
“Let’s do it, Liafador.”
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