I had a strange dream as if I were someone else, fighting against the very gods themselves. It is remarkable what visions a dream can bestow. From the day I was born, I was nothing more than a farmer, and my fate seemed predetermined: to sow wheat, grind flour, and live my life at the mill. Yet, as I neared my twelfth year, I realized this was not my path. I began searching for my own.
I was born in Sparta, where only children of Spartan blood could become the next generation of warriors. Boys were tested from an early age, enduring merciless trials, and those who failed did not survive. I dreamed of becoming like them clad in shining armor.
But my desire was not driven by glory alone. I longed to protect myself. For deep within me lingered memories of another life. At first, I had no intention of ever lifting a weapon, but one day, when I witnessed a miracle for the first time, I understood I was not simply in Greece. I was in a world of gods, filled with dangers, nightmares, and monstrous spawn.
I left the mill where my family lived. I had worked there since childhood, and though life had been hard, I loved them dearly. Yet I could no longer remain. I had several brothers to help my parents, and though they did not wish to let me go, I managed to persuade them. Thus began my wandering.
I could not become a warrior in Sparta, so I set out on a long journey. I nearly lost my life along the way a pack of wild wolves attacked me, and I escaped only by scrambling up a tall tree. For hours they circled below, growling and leaping, until they caught the scent of other prey and vanished into the forest. That was how my path began a path that led me into the unknown.
By the grace of Hermes, I reached Athens. There I had neither connections nor wealth nor even a name. But Athens was a polis of opportunity. Unlike Sparta, here one could hope to carve a different destiny.
Of course, I did not become a warrior right away. I had to take whatever work I could find, earning a few coins for backbreaking labor. Without documents or status, my efforts were valued little more than a slave's. I refused to steal it seemed dishonorable, too base though the thought often tempted me when hunger gnawed at my belly.
Years passed. I trained my body relentlessly, honed my skills as best I could with the little I had. At last, an opportunity came: Athens was raising an army, calling for new recruits. That was how I joined.
Yet I was not accepted into the main army. My place was more modest among the recruits tasked with guarding the polis itself. A year later, the elite Athenian army marched against Sparta. They returned weeks later with gold and glory. For Athens, it was a triumph. But I did not rejoice. I clenched my fists instead, praying my family had survived, that war had not consumed them. I could never have imagined Athens would dare raise arms against Sparta.
Tormented by doubt, I set out northward. There I found a peaceful town that became my home for several years. I entered the service of the gods' temple. It was an honored duty to guard a sacred place and, through it, serve the gods themselves.
There, I found friends people who accepted me without question of my origin. My weapons became the spear and shield not to shed blood, but to protect what was precious. To bar evil from defiling the sacred.
Such was my life in service to the gods until a terrible plague struck. Each day it claimed dozens of lives. The temple, once filled with prayers, became a place of weeping and cries of despair.
"The Oracle has spoken there is but one path," declared our commander and captain of the temple guard, Bokrat. "We must set out in search of a rare medicine. It can heal the sickness and save our city."
"Do the gods themselves not have the power to cure this plague?" asked Tisaya, the only woman in our company, who had long ago proven her right to bear arms and defend the temple.
Bokrat's brow darkened."Perhaps our prayers have gone unheard. Or perhaps the gods themselves are waging war against evils we cannot fathom. But if we do nothing, the plague will consume us all. The company must be small. The strongest will come with me; the rest will remain to guard the temple. I will not compel you. Will you follow me?"
"I will go," Tisaya answered first."I'm with you," said Likrit.
One by one, six volunteers stepped forward.
"I will join you," I said.
I had lived there many years, grown close to these people. To watch the light drain from their eyes was unbearable. Helplessness burned hotter than any blade. I could not stand aside and do nothing.
"No, Atreus, you are not yet ready," said Bokrat.
"I will go," I replied firmly, meeting his gaze. "I am ready to fight to the end for our mission, and for those who need us."
He began to protest, but something in my eyes silenced him. At last, Bokrat gave a slow nod.
"Very well."
We began preparing for the journey. A ship was readied, and the Oracle showed us the way. The path led across the Aegean Sea, and the Oracle warned us: it would be harsh, filled with dangers, and not all would return. Still, we set sail.
Soon, a storm overtook us. Waves crashed against the ship, the mast bent under the fury of the winds, and the timbers groaned as if ready to snap at any moment. It felt as though Poseidon's wrath itself had been unleashed upon us.
Amid the tempest, an island appeared ahead. Yet instead of salvation, it brought only doom: the waters around it churned with whirlpools. Despite every effort to steer away, the attempt was futile we were being dragged straight into the maelstrom.
The ship groaned as it was pulled under. Water rushed onto the deck, and I shouted to my comrades to dive deeper, for only then was there a chance to escape the vortex. But not all heard my cry.
My strength was fading when I struck the seafloor, but shielding myself with my battered shield spared me from injury. We managed to break free of the whirlpool's grasp, only to face a new horror.
The sirens descended upon us. Beautiful yet terrible, they clawed for us, seeking to drag us into the abyss and steal our souls. I seized my spear and raised my shield, driving the monsters back. Shoulder to shoulder with my companions, we fought them off, step by step forcing our way toward the shore.
By some miracle, we reached land. But of the entire company, only three survived: myself, Bokrat, and Tisaya.
"We must finish the mission," Bokrat said heavily, giving us a moment to catch our breath and mourn the fallen. "Their deaths must not be in vain. Atreus you fought with honor. A true warrior of the Temple."
"Thank you," I replied, torn between pride and the crushing weight of loss.
"It seems we are not alone," Tisaya suddenly said, pointing to the sandy shore. It was littered with shattered ships and broken equipment bearing the marks of many different poleis.
"Strange," Bokrat muttered, frowning. "The Oracle never spoke of others seeking the Ambrosia."
"Then we will see for ourselves," Tisaya said firmly.
We pressed on along the path revealed to us. The air was thick with the stench of ash and death. The earth beneath our feet was blackened, charred, as though life itself had abandoned this land. It was hard to believe that here, of all places, one could find a cure capable of healing any sickness.
And yet, it was said that within this grim island stood a tree whose fruits bestowed immortality or healed any affliction. Perhaps it had absorbed the life of the entire island, and thus held such power.
Suddenly, a strange sound shattered the silence.
Shhh shhhhhh…
A sharp rustle echoed around us. Among the dry trunks of trees, a flickering silhouette moved.
"Battle readiness," Bokrat commanded, straining to see the foe.
"We're too exposed easy prey here," Tisaya warned.
"Hold your ground," Bokrat said firmly. "To panic is to play into the enemy's hand. Perhaps that is exactly what it awaits."
Shhh shhh crack!
The breaking of branches grew louder. Out of the dim gloom, a beast's eyes glared at us burning with frenzy.
In the next instant, the creature burst forth from the thicket.
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Author's Note
The events take place before the first chapter. Where does the system come from and who is Atreus?