Julius POV
Lyssa's hand massaged her nose, it was crooked, from where Richter had hit her. Mine was too, my own hand feeling the cartilage shift under my fingertips. The bone wasn't quite sitting right, a familiar sensation that I'd experienced more times than I cared to count over the past few years.
We looked at each other, both touching our respective broken noses, and without a word, came to the same silent agreement.
Then in unison, we tugged them hard.
SNAP
The sound of cartilage and bone snapping back into place echoed in the hut. The pain was sharp, immediate.
"Fuck!" I yelled, my eyes watering involuntarily. The pain radiated outward from my nose, making my entire face throb.
Lyssa only remained quiet, maybe she was more used to pain than I was, or maybe she was so crazy that the pain gave her pleasure. I looked at her manic smile spreading across her face as she wiggled her newly straightened nose.
Yeah, she was definitely too crazy for pain.
"Well then come on Julius," she said. "Time for dinner, you slept through almost the entire day."
I nodded, the pain already beginning to fade. We both walked out of the vine-made hut, and I looked at what she'd accomplished while I was sleeping.
There in front of me, was a lit pyre. It wasn't small or big, it was just right, maybe three feet across. The flames crackled and rose, the smoke thin. At the sides were trunks of vine that could be called seats rising from the cracks between the stones. Right next to the seats were two sticks, each about three feet long, with dead fish skewered on them.
The fish looked freshly caught. They were decent-sized too, probably a half a foot long each. I had no idea how she'd caught them, but then again, she could make wine appear out of thin air, so fishing was probably child's play.
I looked up. The moon hung high, full and bright, casting silver light across the water. Stars dotted the sky. I really had slept through almost the entire day. My internal clock told me it was probably around nine or ten at night.
Lyssa hurriedly ran off to the fire, grabbing her own stick as she placed it above the flames, angling it so the fish hung just above the heat. She pointed at my own stick with her free hand.
"We don't really have spices so sorry about that," she said, her tone almost apologetic. "But we do have this."
A vine cracked from the ground with a sound like breaking wood, and from it, grapes and strawberries hung in clusters. The grapes were purple and plump, the strawberries bright red. "Dessert."
I walked over and sat next to her on one of the vine seats. They were surprisingly comfortable, although I shouldn't have been surprised given the fact that the vine-hammocks were also comfortable, with some give to them, almost like cushioned furniture. I grabbed my own stick and placed it above the flames, watching as the heat began to work its magic on the fish.
"How did you do this?" I asked her, gesturing to the fire with my free hand. "Start the fire, I mean."
A bottle of wine appeared in her hand as if conjured from nowhere. "Glass concentrates light," she explained, taking a small sip. "I just pointed it towards the dry wood. The first thing I did after you went to sleep."
"Makes sense," I added, nodding my head. I watched the flame crackling in front of me, the wood popping and hissing. The heat felt good against my face, warming my skin. Silence fell over us.
The waves lapped at the shore behind us. The mist barrier in the distance an ever-present reminder of our prison.
I expected her to talk more, to fill the silence with her usual manic energy. Guess no-
"So multiple personalities."
There it was.
"Just two. Richter and I."
"How long have you had the other one? Which is the original?"
I turned the fish over, watching as the skin began to char slightly on one side. "I am, Richter came about around four years ago, when the first monster attacked me."
"Wait, first? The Mormo wasn't your first?" Her head snapped toward me, her wine-red eyes surprised.
I stared into the fire, watching the flames rise, fall and twist. It reminded me of the flaming hair of Eudoxia, that empousa who'd sent me here. I wanted to put it out, to smother those flames until nothing remained but smoke and ash.
"Yeah, I've been attacked by multiple monsters for the last four years, finally met one Richter couldn't kill though. It's why I'm in this mess."
Lyssa was quiet for a moment, processing this information. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. "Wait, you told me you know nothing about camp, but you entered this world years ago. Why hadn't a satyr come for you then?"
"Artemis said the same thing," I replied, rotating my fish again. The smell of cooking seafood filled the air, making my stomach growl. "As for why a half-goat half-man didn't come for me, I have no clue."
"That's..." she paused, taking another drink from her bottle. "That's really weird. Satyrs are nature spirits created from the spilled blood when Ouranos' blood hit fertile soil after Kronos murdered him. They work for the camp and are supposed to find demigods and bring them back. They can smell us out same as monsters. If a monster finds you, satyrs normally do too, especially if you've been in this world for over four years."
I shrugged, feeling the weight of that mystery settle on my shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"Your life has been very weird even for a demigod," Lyssa said, pulling her stick away from the fire to examine her fish. Satisfied with how cooked it was, she took it out completely.
I did the same, the heat from the stick warming my palms.
"You're telling me," I laughed, though there wasn't much humor in it. "How do we eat these?"
"You can peel the skin if you want to," Lyssa explained, already biting into her fish without bothering to remove anything. "But you can also just bite into it. We have a better digestive system than mortals. You could even eat the spine if you wanted to, though I wouldn't suggest it. It's still prickly and it really hurts your insides if you eat too much."
I shrugged, bringing my mouth closer to the smoked fish. The heat radiated against my face. My teeth dug into its flesh, and I was surprised to find it wasn't bad, just bland. The meat was white and flaky, cooked through. It tasted like fish and smoke and not much else, but after the day I'd had, it might as well have been a five-star meal.
We ate like that, in sparing conversation. My eyes locked on to the water lapping against the shore and the mist barrier a few hundred feet away.
"So how are we going to get out of here?" I asked her.
Lyssa's hand paused halfway to her mouth, a piece of fish still clutched between her fingers. She looked at me like I'd just suggested we try to punch the moon.
"Get out?" She laughed, but it was hollow, empty of her usual manic energy. "I already told you, there is no getting out. We're stuck in here until we die, from a monster, old age, starvation, doesn't matter. The point is this place is our grave."
I wanted to sigh at that. I thought back to what Eudoxia had told me, her words echoing in my mind like a curse.
"And if you can't deal with it, hang yourself with that. I do wonder from which cloth you are cut though, then again both of you may be cut from different cloths. How fun. How fun indeed."
Was that really how I would go out? Hanging myself with my own whip? Giving up and ending it all on this godsforsaken island?
No. I refused. Life had always been shit, doesn't mean we stop swimming through it. This was just a little shittier than normal.
"I don't believe that," I told her, my voice firm. "In no story I know of Greek myth is there a situation that's unconquerable. The odds may be against us, but-"
"Those stories," Lyssa interrupted, her voice slightly bored, as if she was tired of having this conversation. She threw the rest of her fish into the fire, where it sizzled and popped. "Are the few who were able to shine, and even then do you know how they turn out? Jason the Argonaut died alone, crushed by his own ship. Achilles, the greatest hero, died from a simple arrow to the heel. Hercules got poisoned to death by one of his lovers. Perseus died to a rival king, murdered in his sleep. A demigod's life is filled with death, Julius. Short, brutal, and meaningless. That's why only the strong or crazy survive."
"Then why haven't you killed yourself?" I asked, the question hanging in the air between us. "If there really is no other way out, if all that is in this island is a harsh life, if you have no hope, why keep living?"
She looked at me, her manic grin faltering.
"Because I'm a coward," she said loudly, as if wanting the entire island to hear her honesty. "I don't want to die. So I won't. I will keep living without purpose, without hope, just... existing. Day after day after day."
It was a disgusting sight, but I didn't say that.
"If there is no purpose to your life," I said, "then why not try to help me? Let's build a raft, try to get out of here."
"I already told you," Lyssa said, but there was less conviction in her voice now. "I've already tried doing that. Built six different rafts. Tried to sail through the mist. Every time, it just brings me back to the island. Sometimes to the same spot I left from, sometimes to a different beach entirely."
"So do it again." I leaned forward, looking her dead in the eyes. "Aren't you a daughter of the god of madness? I thought doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result, is the definition of insanity. So come on, let's be insane. Who knows, we could actually make it out."
I gulped down the last part of my fish, barely tasting it as I chewed and swallowed. Standing up from my spot, I looked out into the mist surrounding us, that wall of ethereal white.
"Besides," I added, "what else are we going to do? Sit here and wait to die? That sounds pretty boring to me."
Lyssa stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the war happening behind her eyes. The part of her that had given up fighting against the part that still, despite everything, wanted to live.
Finally, she threw the last of her fish into the fire and stood up.
"Eh, what the Hades," she said, and I caught a glimpse of that manic grin returning to her face. "Let's make a raft. But tomorrow, you've already had your sleep, I still need mine. Stay near the cabin, the mist will start appearing soon. Also keep watch, monsters may still attack us at any time in this place. Just because we haven't seen any today doesn't mean they won't show up."
I nodded at her.
She reached down and unstrapped the hydra fang from her waist, the vine hilt loosening its grip. She held it out to me, and as I took it, the vine hilt shortened slightly to better fit my grip.
"Take that," she said. "I know that Richter guy can use the whip well, but just in case he doesn't come out, you need an easier weapon to handle. A sword is more straightforward than a whip, just stick them with the pointy end."
"Thanks," I said, turning it in my hand, it was pretty light considering it's length.
With that she walked into the hut, vines growing from the ground to close the door, weaving together into a solid barrier. It left me outside, alone with my thoughts and the pyre still glowing brightly in the night.
I sat back down on the vine seat, the hydra fang resting across my lap, and stared out at the mist barrier. Tomorrow, we'd build. Tomorrow, we'd start trying to escape.
But tonight, I would keep watch.
I gripped the hydra fang a little tighter and settled in for a long night.