Some might say it's unfortunate that I still haven't grown accustomed to these sudden, unannounced transports to other realms. It's unnerving, I admit. One moment, I'm standing in one place, and the next, I'm hurtling through time and space, deposited somewhere foreign, with no warning or preparation. But unlike most, I don't consider it a misfortune. I've come to see these moments as a gift. Each time I regain consciousness, I am granted the opportunity to experience a childlike wonder, a wonder that makes the unknown feel less terrifying and more… magical.
This time, we found ourselves on a sun-kissed stretch of coast, the scent of salt and brine sharp in the air. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything it touched. The gentle hiss of the waves played a constant rhythm as the tide ebbed and flowed, lapping at the shore with a slow, hypnotic cadence. It was almost as if the ocean itself were inviting us to relax, to forget why we were here. The sand beneath my feet was warm and velvety, moulding around each step, tempting me to lie down and surrender to the island's tranquil beauty.
But something about this peace felt deceptive. Beneath the calm, I could sense an undercurrent of tension, a hum of something more, something unseen, that belied the serenity of the island. I had learned long ago to trust my instincts in places like this. We might be in paradise, but paradise, I knew, could just as easily be a trap.
Despite this, the most captivating sight on the island was the lush, vibrant greenery of the trees that surrounded us. Each tree seemed to have a distinct personality, towering above us like gentle guardians, swaying in the ocean breeze. They stood tall, strong, as if they had weathered centuries of storms and remained untouched. The entire island, with its perfect landscape, seemed designed to soothe, to calm. From the soothing sounds of the waves to the gentle rustling of the leaves, everything about this place seemed to urge me to relax, to let go of the ever-present weight on my shoulders.
But I couldn't let go. Not here. Perhaps the island's allure was the very test the king had designed for us. Maybe this was part of the challenge, to see if we could resist the temptation of comfort and stay focused on our true mission.
As I was contemplating this, something caught my eye. Not far from where we stood, a stone pillar jutted out of the sand. It looked ancient, weathered by time, its surface rough and cracked. It seemed out of place in such a natural paradise. Its stark, concrete form was a harsh contrast to the island's organic beauty. We approached it cautiously, our weapons still sheathed but ready. As we drew nearer, I noticed inscriptions roughly carved into the surface.
"Look at this," Anna said softly, stepping forward. She was our healer, the one who always kept her head when the rest of us were ready to lose ours. She ran her fingers over the carvings, her brow furrowed. "It's a riddle," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. And then she read aloud:
"In ocean's depths, a creature sleeps,
A beast that neither crawls nor leaps.
Half serpent's tail, half fish's might,
Its power is hidden from mortal sight.
Hunters seek it, far and wide,
To claim a prize that gods would hide.
For in its flesh, a secret lies,
The power to make Olympus die.
Now you must choose, a path to take,
Will you slay, or mercy make?
To end its life could break the sky,
But sparing it may leave gods to lie.
A hunter's choice, to still or free,
Which fate will rule your destiny?
Capture its form, or burn its heart,
Tell me, hunter, where do you start?"
Anna paused, letting the weight of the riddle sink in. She looked back at us, her usually calm demeanour showing the faintest flicker of frustration. "Why a riddle now? I thought there would be a change of pace," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. It was rare to see Anna irritated, but it seemed even the king could test her patience.
"It is a moral dilemma," I pointed out, stepping closer to the pillar and running my eyes over the last lines. "Look at the final stanza."
Shawn, who had been trailing behind, looked utterly confused. "Uh… what's a stanza?" he asked, his voice full of genuine curiosity. Sometimes, it was hard not to smile at his innocence.
I sighed, but patiently. "A stanza is just a verse, Shawn. The last two lines give us a choice. We have to decide: do we kill the beast or capture it?"
I let the silence hang, waiting to see who would be the first to respond. The decision seemed obvious to me, but I didn't want to push the group. They needed to come to the conclusion themselves. No point in showing my hand too early.
Rebecca was the first to speak, and predictably, she wasn't subtle about it. "Why are we even wasting time talking about this? It'd be easier to kill the thing and be done with it. Even if it's just a baby, we're hunting it, which means it'll probably try to kill us, too. Let's just kill it and move on."
Her bluntness caught me off guard. I always thought her arrogance was just bluster, a mask she wore to hide something deeper. But in that moment, I realised there was a part of her that genuinely didn't care. But I was pissed off.
"The phrase 'make Olympus die' doesn't necessarily mean the gods themselves will fall," I said, my tone even and measured. "It could be a metaphor, a warning about something worse that might happen if we act recklessly."
I watched her closely as I spoke. This wasn't about showing mercy; it was about being strategic. And if I'm being completely honest, part of me just wanted to see her smug certainty crumble a little. I'm no noble hero, I have my petty moments like anyone else. Watching Rebecca falter would be a small victory.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "What beast could possibly take down Olympus? I've read that book you carry around like it's your lifeline. There's no creature powerful enough to do that. Typhon came close, but this? It's not that dangerous."
Before I could respond, Shawn spoke up, surprisingly defending me. "Hey, Rebecca, give him a chance. He's good with riddles, and he knows more mythology than any of us. Let's at least hear him out."
Shawn had an uncanny ability to diffuse tension. I was silently grateful for his intervention. It gave me time to think, to refocus on the riddle. The description of a creature that was neither serpent nor fish tugged at something deep in my memory. I started to sift through possibilities, legends and creatures that could match the description.
And then it hit me: the Ophiotaurus. A half-bull, half-serpent beast. The legends said that burning its entrails granted the power to overthrow the gods.
But what if I was wrong? I considered other possibilities: Charybdis, the sea monster known for creating whirlpools; the Hydra, whose regenerative heads made it almost impossible to kill. But none of them fit the prophecy of gods falling. The Kraken? No, too straightforward. The answer had to be something more elusive, something tied specifically to Olympus.
The more I thought about it, the more certain I became. The Ophiotaurus was the only creature that made sense. It was linked to Olympus' fate, and its heart was the key.
As I explained my reasoning to the others, a dangerous thought crept into my mind. If we killed it, could we truly gain the power of the gods? The temptation was undeniable, but I pushed it aside. That wasn't the kind of strength I wanted. Power without meaning, without sacrifice, it was hollow. I wasn't about to take that path.
Sensing the shift in the group's mood, Anna quickly changed the subject. "Let's focus on finding the creature first. We can deal with the moral dilemma later. Sis, you take point. You're the best hunter."
I watched as Rebecca's confidence swelled. Anna was feeding her ego, but why? Before I could dwell on it further, we gathered around the campfire at the centre of our camp. The hearth flickered, casting long shadows across the ground as we settled in for the night.
I sat down, my legs heavy from the day's journey. For the first time in what felt like years, I took a moment to gaze up at the night sky. The stars were brilliant, unpolluted by the haze of city lights, their sharp brilliance cutting through the darkness like diamonds against black velvet. The constellations seemed to look down on us, almost as if they cared for the small lives we lived beneath them.
For a moment, I felt like a child again, a child lost in a world far too vast to comprehend. And maybe, just maybe, that was another gift. The gift of ignorance. My hands shook, but I barely felt it. My fingers, clenched into fists, might as well have been someone else's. The whole time, I've been like this. Like I'm watching it all from a distance, numb to everything, to everyone.
But in that moment, as I looked at the stars, I realised something: I wasn't just numb. I've been lying to myself all this time, pretending I cared about the mission, the people, the cause. But deep down, I don't. The truth is, I crave the fight. The clash of steel, the sound of bones breaking beneath my hands. The destruction. I'm no better than the monster we're chasing.. The only thing that's real, the only thing that makes me feel anything, is the fight. The surge of adrenaline. The thrill when the sword bites flesh. Destruction. That's what pulls me back, time after time.
As I sat there, gazing into the fire, I couldn't help but wonder: could I ever find my way back? Or was this who I truly was?
The oracle had said my path was unstable, that I would face choices that could shape my destiny. Perhaps this was the first of those choices. I would need help. I wasn't strong enough to find the path on my own. I would swallow my pride, bow to those who thought themselves superior, use them as they used me. And maybe, just maybe, one day I would find my path. Maybe one day, I wouldn't feel like I was on the verge of breaking.
This wasn't hope. I wasn't that naïve. This was a goal. A target. Something I had to achieve.
As I lay my head down for one more night, I realised what I want. Yes, I found my new prey.
As I embraced this newfound outlook, something remarkable happened: all the worries, pain, and stress that had haunted me for as long as I could remember seemed to vanish. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I was finally able to rest. That night, my mind was utterly still, no nightmares, no dreams, just pure, unbroken silence. And in that sleep, I found something I had been yearning for all my life: peace.
When I woke, however, I was greeted by three pairs of eyes staring at me, each one expressing a different level of curiosity. Perhaps they were surprised. It was the first time since we'd met that I had been the last one to wake. The peacefulness I had found in sleep was still with me, but it was unnerving. I wasn't used to it. It felt unfamiliar, but only for a fleeting moment. Before long, I felt a tugging at the corners of my lips. I was about to smile, but that tranquillity was shattered by a voice I enjoyed about as much as nails on a chalkboard.
"So, Sleeping Beauty finally awakens," mocked Rebecca. "We've been wasting time while waiting for you. Shawn over there won't let us do anything until our 'mythological expert' wakes up," she sneered, jerking her thumb in Shawn's direction. The annoyance in her tone was palpable as her eyes bore into me, daring me to respond.
"Well, I suppose I should thank you," I said, smirking slightly. "After all, I am the expert in all things mythological." I deliberately emphasised the word she had used to mock me, savouring the pettiness of the moment.
"Alright, you nerdy bastard," she began, but I interrupted her with a mischievous grin.
"Expert nerdy bastard," I corrected, enjoying the look of frustration that flashed across her face.
"Shut up and tell me what you think about finding this beast," she snapped, her irritation barely contained. Her arrogance grated on me. She acted as though she were in charge, though none of us had ever acknowledged her authority. Something inside me urged me to push back.
"Wait, do you want me to shut up, or do you want me to tell you?" I asked innocently, relishing the way her face slowly twisted into a mask of barely controlled hatred. Before she could retort, I cut her off again, my smile growing even wider. "The ophiotaurus is a sea creature, so it won't be far from bodies of water. Looking at the map, there are four large bodies of water in the area. I suggest we stick together and investigate them one by one."
For a brief moment, I held onto a flicker of hope that Rebecca would see reason. After all, what I was suggesting made perfect sense. But, as I had feared, my hopes were misplaced.
"This is exactly why I'm in charge," Rebecca chided. "I'll give you this: you know more about mythology than the rest of us. But sometimes, you're just so… unwise. It's showing, Hudson." She crossed her arms, glaring at me, clearly expecting some kind of response.
"Look, I get it. You are a true hunter. But trust me, following my lead is a win-win. Either we find the ophiotaurus, or you get to blame me if we don't. You're welcome." I explained with frustration.
Rebecca, unsatisfied, glanced at her sister for support. Anna, the quieter and more thoughtful of the two, hesitated for a moment before chiming in.
"I think what my sister is trying to say is that there are four of us and four rivers. We should split up and cover more ground," Anna said, her voice wavering ever so slightly. Was that hesitation I detected? Anna's hesitation spoke volumes. She was holding something back, that much was clear. It was a suggestion rife with danger, and I wasn't the only one who saw the flaw in her logic. Before I could say anything, Shawn spoke up, his voice tinged with anger.
"Do you want your sister to die, Rebecca?" he snapped, his fury barely concealed. "Do you honestly think there's nothing in this forest that could attack us? You want to send Anna, the healer, off on her own? Get off your high horse. Hudson usually has a reason for his madness."
I blinked, startled by Shawn's outburst. His rage surprised me,was he angry on my behalf, or had he simply had enough of Rebecca's bossy attitude? Either way, it seemed Shawn, usually the peacemaker, had finally lost his patience. His words hit Rebecca harder than I had expected. For a moment, her expression faltered, and I thought she might actually acknowledge her oversight. But the moment passed quickly, and before long, she and Shawn were locked in a heated argument, voices rising as they hurled insults at each other.
I wanted to pay attention to what they were saying, but my gaze was drawn to Anna.There was something about Anna's demeanour that didn't sit right. On the surface, she seemed detached, almost hollow. But her eyes, they glimmered with something else. Excitement? No, it wasn't that simple. Her gaze wasn't one of someone merely caught in the moment. It was as though she was taking in the chaos, savouring it. Why? What was she waiting for?
"Hudson, are you listening?" Shawn's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, though I hadn't caught a word of what had been said. I had been too absorbed in my thoughts.
"We're splitting into two teams," Shawn explained, his annoyance apparent. "You're with me."
I shrugged nonchalantly. It didn't matter much to me whether we stayed together or split up. Either plan had its merits. But before I could move, Anna's voice broke the tension.
"Can I go with Hudson?" she asked quietly, surprising everyone. Her voice was small, almost timid, but there was a determination behind it. "I think everyone's a bit stressed, and maybe switching up the teams will help. Please, Bex."
Rebecca's mouth opened, but no words came out. She looked just as stunned as I felt. Anna volunteering to switch teams caught me off guard. It felt off. Like there was something else behind her eyes. But that's probably just my paranoia speaking. Ignore me.
After what felt like an eternity, Rebecca gave a slight nod of approval. Anna responded by quickly hugging her sister before hurrying over to me. As we began to move, I glanced back at Shawn and Rebecca. The fury in their eyes hadn't diminished. Their bloodlust was palpable, and I knew that this conflict was far from over.
As Anna and I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. The uneasy truce that held our group together felt like it was fraying at the seams. But for now, all I could do was focus on the task at hand, and try to understand the enigma walking beside me.