One year has past since Johnathan now Adonis, was sent to the past of the world his uncle wrote about. Since the selection ceremony he was just a normal infant in the house of Blud. He had a handmaid named Harmonia. She is a very attentive young lady. She is one of the many handmaids of the house of Blud.
From my memories of my past life she is from a ally house of Aphrodite. The books say that The Ares and Aphrodite clans have been allies always. Which wasn't surprising considering based on their legends, the two gods were lovers and no matter who else they were with, they were long time affair partners. Even having several children together.
The MC in this story met one the daughters of the Aphrodite house. She is considered to be the strongest female lead in the whole series. From what Johnathan remembered about her she is supposed to be one of the 13 humans with demigod status, and a distant relative of the House of Blud.
Suddenly one day Harmonia took him out of his crib, and walked through a underground corridor he never seen before. After several minutes of walking Adonis noticed they weren't the only ones there. Several other handmaids and woman dressed in White togas appeared in the dimly lit corridor. Then Adonis was lowered to the ground with a gentleness.
Adonis's bare feet touched warm stone. He wobbled, steadying himself with practiced ease. Since he was a one year old he tried to regain former control of his body a little earlier... he knew It was futile, since it would be years until he would have a level of control with his body that he desired. That still did not deter him from trying, the better control he got the sooner he believed he could practice magic again.
Around him sat and crawled other infants, some bold enough to slap at one another, which wasn't surprising for this house. Blud children were expected to be rowdy and energetic, the real problem came from the quiet ones. Some infants were quiet and wide-eyed, some already began to cry for whatever reason, but the moment a figure approached the crying seized, like the presence of the person before them demanded silence.
The chamber itself felt ancient, it looked carved from dark sandstone and what appeared to look like black volcanic rock, with iron braziers embedded into the walls. Above, the ceiling rose into a dome carved in it with what looked like constellations. Some Adonis recognized from Earth, and the rest that were none he recognized. Probably mapped by survivors that charted across to the Ares Galaxy.
Not that Adonis would know. He wasn't a astronomer, he only recognized certain ones, from what he learned in school. Then Adonis's shifted from the ceiling, to her his mother standing before them, Seraphine Blud. His mother and the Matriarch of the House of Blud.
His mother stood across the hall like a statue carved for worship and fear in equal measure. She wore a blood-red toga compared to the other woman that wore white. Her's even had gold lining that went across the seems. Next to her were woman in the same color togas, but they had no gold lining in theirs.
Seraphine togas still seemed more impressive then that of the other woman around her. Her folds were sharper, pinned with a gold clasp shaped like a spearhead. Her presence was fierce which made Adonis second guess if this was still the woman who hands trembled when he was kicked out of the family.
He began to notice her features more then before. They were sharp, almost blade-like in their precision. She had a warm, tanned Sunkissed skin, long onyx black hair falling straight and glossy down her back. Her eyes were also black, not soft dark brown, the kind of black that looked like depthless obsidian.
And there was something else. A familiarity Jonathan couldn't place at first. The way she carried herself, the shape of her cheekbones, the set of her gaze… his Earth mind reached for labels like Filipino, East Asian, Southeast Asian, but he settled on a mixed heritage.
He remembered how his Uncle explained how since humanity set off into the stars in a hurry, multiple ethnicities intermingled. Before leaving Earth the subject of Ethnicity was causing a lot of conflict. More mix heritage became the norm, and when the gods came back into the light, some of them like the African Gods. Fought to free their people who were treated to injustice's for hundred's of years.
They even revealed the truth that Africa was were majority of live originated from. The basic blueprint of humanity was crafted their. Some gods didn't care if their followers were mixed or of foreign descant, what they cared about was their believe.
Then Johnathan forced the thought's down. Those were Earth categories, but here, bloodlines were mapped by gods, and planets, not continents. The concept of countries died a very long time ago.
Around Seraphine and the other women stood several handmaids, and many more behind them. Women of the Main House and branch houses, from mothers and midwives and elder matrons, who each wore variations of red togas, a few wore black. Johnathan remembered those were woman who just lost their husbands, wives or children. Each woman held themselves like they belonged to a war temple rather than a nursery.
Uncle Jasen did say Spartan woman are the most fierce, and beautiful woman in the universe. They don't care about money or status, they care about your honor and capabilities as a warrior and partner. Some of the traditions is that if you want to date or marry a spartan woman you must beat her in combat or due several labors to prove your strength of character.
But if you want to marry a taken woman or widowed, you must fight their current partner, or their closes male guardian, whether it be their sons, brother, uncles or father. This is also a battle to the death, and once the winner is decided they must take responsibility of the fallens children family or whoever is under their care. This is called the Hupernikao challenge. So on new Sparta and it's surrounding planets a man could have multiple partners if they win them in battle and fulfill their obligation to take care of the fallens wards or families.
Then even crazier part is that woman can do this as well. Mind you the custom wasn't done a lot in the books, but Adonis saw it happen plenty of times over the years in his first life. Surprisingly it was the woman who initiated the Hupernikao. The majority were for his father, and his oldest sister.
And his sister never lost a fight, while his mother, the woman standing before him killed every challenger, and consolidated power. She turned the former husbands or children of the fallen woman into great warriors, and made sure they could still have love and more if they worked for it.
Everyone of them did from what he remembered.
Beyond Seraphine, at the center of the hall, sat a wide pot of fire, an open vessel of red flame burning without wood or oil, the heat from the flame shimmering in the air like a mirage.
Even from where Adonis sat, he could feel it. A pressure from the presence of the woman before him. And under that pressure, the infants didn't even move, they were to intimidated to. The most some did was whimper.
Adonis didn't whimper but he was a little intimidated by the scene in front of him. His lavender eyes studied everything with a stillness that didn't belong to a one-year-old. Then Seraphine lifted her hand.
The silent hall then focused purely on her. Even the infants seemed to hush from their whimpering, as if they recognized the command.
"Handmaidens," Seraphine said, voice calm and carrying without effort, "and mothers of the Houses of Ares… I welcome you to our tried and true traditions." Her gaze swept the room, and every woman stood straighter. "I know many of you have not seen me since the births of my first daughter and my first son. It is an honor to see and be amongst you all again."
There was no softness in her expression as she spoke of her older children. No glow of motherly pride. Only authority.
"Tonight," she continued, " we continue the tradition to bless our children. Our sons and daughters who will in the future see constant battles of all kinds. Here, we will forge them, so they may become the men and women our house needs to survive. Tonight we kill the weakness of our mortal blood, so that one day should they proof themselves they ascend to greater heights."
Adonis blinked slowly. Tradition, forge, burn away? Those word didn't feel like they belonged in a nursery. They sounded like they belonged in a smithy. Or a slaughterhouse.
Seraphine's eyes narrowed slightly, and the red fire in the pot flared, as if responding to her will.
"Like Thetis, we will ensure our children survive, out of our love and duty. " she said.
The name struck Johnathan like a memory snapping into place. Thetis, She was the mother of some famous Greek hero. Johnathan didn't remember the Greek mythology as well as his Uncle. Only key points sea nymph or goddess. That was all he could remember for the most part.
Surprisingly since the gods came back their history and mythologies have received major rewrites. But from what he could tell from his past life, the Gods cleared up certain wrong things about their stories, and told half truths. This was a way to improve their image, mainly the Greek gods which were known as the biggest pantheon were consent wasn't needed. Good thing Ares is a lot of things but he actually had no rape myths.
Adonis's small hands curled into fists, as his mind raced. Seraphine was pointing at fire.
Why a fire? and what did she mean?
Then he remembered, buried beneath years of struggle, exile, and the long dread of his first life—
many clans and houses, had access to powerful boons caused from the rebirth of the gods. And House Blud was one of the few who found, and weaponized a powerful boon.
Seraphine's voice sharpened. "Now, mothers… give your child permission to take the Trial. And toss them into the Nightly Flame."
Adonis felt the hall grow colder, despite the fire, as his eyes widened. She's gonna have us tossed into the fire?
Jonathan's first instinct, was disbelief. His second was terror. The kind that crawled down the spine and turned the body into a trembling animal. He wanted to run but knew he wouldn't get anywhere far with his body.
Seraphine continued. "Should they be worthy," she said, "they will make it to the River… and be bathed in its waters and be blessed."
Adonis stared at the pot of flame. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as he stared at the nightly flame.
His memory clawed at the term. It sounded familiar but he couldn't remember why. And she said the river. He remembered the House of Blud has a brutal tradition to make their children stronger, well the worthy ones anyway. But it is only done to the children in infancy. Only the women and the highest leaders of the clan know the secret.
So this is it. Tossing us into a flame and then dumping us into a river.
Seraphine began to walk forward. Then Harmonie lifted Adonis again, and he felt the world tilt as his small body left the ground. Infants were being gathered across the chamber, some held gently, some held unnaturally.
Adonis was carried toward Seraphine. Her eyes met his. They were cold and were analyzing him deeply. Harmonie then handed Adonis to the matriarch.
She held him somewhat normally. But she was not warm either. It was like the gaze of a woman deciding if her child is worth her time. Then Seraphine leaned close. Her lips brushed his ear. And she whispered, soft, so only he could hear.
"Move only forward. And when you fall in… drink the water."
Adonis's eyes widened. Why was she telling a one year old this? Did she expect me to understand her? And what does she mean by drink it?
Seraphine straightened, raising her voice for the room to hear. "I, Seraphine Blud, mother of Adonis Blud, give you permission to take the Trial of Styx," she declared. "So that you may fulfill your purpose."
And then—She tossed him into the red flames. And Adonis mind went blank, as he tried to make sense of everything. But then the world became red. The moment he hit the flame, pain hit him like a star exploding inside his nerves.
The flame was so hot and it burned so bad. It was pain, pure, sharp, total, the kind that made his mind scream and his body convulse even though his skin remained unmarked. The Nightly Flame roared around him.
He heard the screams and cries of the infants around him, but then he noticed something through the pain. His body didn't burn or blister, he didn't even smell charred flesh, a smell he knew very well from his mercenary days. But none of that was happening
Then Johnathan remembered something from his first life, something he'd read once, when he started to learn magic. A fake flame that had multiple uses. It didn't burn a person's physical body, but their spirit and soul. That's right, night flame or false flame or fake fire, are the names it goes by.
A type of illusionary magic used to torture someone without laying a finger on them. Some clans use this fire to teach their warriors bodies and mind to accept suffering and not break. It would strip fear down to raw instinct and either you will conquer it or be consumed by it.
It was one of the most cruelest tortures that existed, and it was dressed up here as tradition. Adonis's tiny jaw tightened. So that's why everyone in this family is so resilient. They do this to babies.
Adonis began to stumble forward, barefoot on stone that felt like it was burning into his bones.
The cries around him became chaos as other infants were thrown in too. Some screamed so hard they couldn't breathe. Some collapsed immediately, their tiny bodies overwhelmed by the shock.
Some crawled, blinded panic driving them forward.
Adonis stopped crawling and stood. He took a step the first step as a infant in this new life.
The woman who looked at the children were amazed by Adonis's display. None have ever seen something like this before. Harmonie had a smile on her face, while Seraphine face remained cold and stoic. But her eyes never left her son.
Adonis continued to move forward. The pain was intense and tried to break him, tried to force him down, tried to make him forget everything but terror. But Jonathan had lived through that in his first life here.
He had been weak. He had been crushed. He had been shamed and discarded. He had bled for twelve years with nothing but grit holding his spine and spirit together. He had died staring into the eyes of a monster, knowing his whole existence in this universe had been a failure. And even then, he had chosen not to stop fighting, but to hope. He clenched his fists. This is nothing compared to dying, and nothing compared to the pain he went through before.
He moved forward. One step after another. The Nightly Flame was a corridor now, red fire walls that engulfed his body. The fiery red path of stone that seemed to stretch forever.
The pain didn't lessen one bit. But Adonis didn't stop for one moment. The fire demanded his surrender, his tears, his very spirit, but Adonis gave it none. His infant body shook violently with each step, but he kept moving.
He couldn't see the other infants now, only one seemed off to his side just right behind him. If he wasn't in such pain he would be amazed another baby like him made it this far crawling while he walked.
He pushed forward until his little legs felt like they would snap. Time lost meaning in the fire.
Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes could have been hours. And hours could have only been seconds.
The pain blurred everything. But then. Ahead, a faint light shimmered. A soft, blueish glow like the sky shined on dark water.
Adonis's breath hitched. He tried to speed up. His foot caught on uneven stone.
His tiny body pitched forward, and he fell.
The world flipped. And then cold water swallowed him. It was cold enough to bite, but compared to the red fire it was heaven. The moment it touched his skin, the Nightly Flame's pain vanished—like it never existed.
For one blissful moment, Adonis felt only silence and relieve. Then He remembered Seraphine's whisper. Drink the water.
Then it came back to him. This was the river Styx. Its one of the boons of the new age that was revived with the gods rebirth. His infant lungs panicked, trying to cry, trying to breathe.
But he forced his mouth open under the surface. And he drank. In one large gulp.
The Styx poured into him like liquid night. It didn't taste like water. It tasted like iron, like thunder.
His insides tightened as a sensation over took his body. Then it loosened. Then something surged and built up deep within side him.
His belly felt warm, and his heart pulsed hard. And then Adonis's mind went blank. The last thing he felt was invisible gazes from above. Their presence felt heavy to him, then he passed out from lack of oxygen.
The next sensation he felt then was of being yanked upward by the ankle. Adonis coughed, the air burning in his throat as he was lifted into the warm air of the hall again.
His eyes fluttered open. Seraphine held him, one hand gripping his ankle, letting him dangle in the air. Beside her, another woman held her own infant the same way. That woman's posture was proud, and confident.
Her eyes gleamed with amusement. Her dark brown hair was pulled back, braided in a warrior's style, and her skin carried the same sun-kissed bronze.
She smirked at Seraphine.
"Well Penthesilea, our son's have done it. How is your son… Alcides?" Seraphine said evenly.
Adonis's mind snapped awake at hearing the name. Alcides
Seraphine tilted her head slightly.
The woman, Penthesilea, looked down at the infant dangling in her grasp. The baby didn't cry, he didn't even fuss. He stared back at the world with the calm, unbothered expression.
Penthesilea's smirk widened. "He's fine," she said. "I swear, this baby is too tough sometimes."
Adonis's eyes widened. So that's Alcides. In the books, Alcides was a monster of a man. A future demigod of the battlefield. A figure who, in later arcs, became legendary—an ally, and rival to the MC. He was a walking catastrophe. Jasen would say he was basically one of the three secret bosses of this universe.
A character who would one day form a contract with a god of strength. Hercules, or something wearing that name like a mantle. And find one of the artifacts of the god and become the head of his house.
Seraphine shifted Adonis into her arms properly, holding him against her chest. He felt her heart beat like a drum. It was almost soothing in a way.
She looked at Penthesilea with something rare in her eyes. Acknowledgment.
"Let's hope our boys grow up to be good friends."
Penthesilea chuckled, as if she found the idea amusing. "Or good enemies," she replied lightly.
Seraphine's gaze didn't change. "In House Blud," she said, "those are often the same thing."
Adonis's mind raced even as exhaustion clung to him.
Alcides… right here… right now. If I can earn his trust early he would be a great future ally. The thought was interrupted by the heavy pull of sleep. The Styx's water coursed through his infant body like living myth.
His eyelids drooped and Seraphine handed him back to Harmonie with a short nod. The hall's ritual ended in murmurs, in whispered praise, in a few quiet sobs from mothers whose children had not received the blessings of the trial.
The infants were carried away. And Adonis was returned to his crib. The night settled over the fortress. As the twin moons glowed outside the high windows, silvering the stone. The nursery chamber was quiet, only the soft breathing of Adonis the gentle rustle of handmaids moving like shadows, the distant echo of a training hall where older warriors still practiced long into the night.
Adonis lay still, his eyes closed. His breathing slow.
Then a presence entered his room. Lurking in the edges of the shadows. Then a hooded figure entered. The figure moved like someone who belonged to the dark. Their face and features covered and distorted by magic. They stopped at the bed of his crib. The hooded figure lifted a hand.
A faint red glow gathered above their palm, threads of magic weaving into a symbol that made chains.
Chains made of curses. The glow descended toward Adonis's chest. Adonis's soul recoil. And for the briefest second. He felt his power shrink. physically, spiritually, and something much deeper. His potential itself. As if a gate in his spirit was being slammed shut.
Adonis was awake the whole time, but he pretended to be a sleep. Hoping he could see who cursed him. But no luck due to whatever this person did to cover themselves. But that shift and the weakness he felt was real.
So I wasn't crazy, someone actually cursed me. Me a baby, someone felt so threatened by a baby and the youngest of thirteen children they came for me. The hooded figure lingered a moment, either satisfied or made sure the curse worked. Then they turned to leave, and disappeared in the shadows of the room.
But what they didn't know. The moment the curse settled, something else stirred inside me, something unknown, powerfully vast, and quietly amused. A presence that did not burn hot like Ares.
It simply existed, a promise written into my soul. No curse shall ever hinder me again. The chains the hooded figure tried to place on him… Snapped. They simply broke as if they had never mattered.
Adonis felt the restriction vanish. His inner self expanded again, free, whole, untouched. The hooded figure left, convinced their task was done.
Adonis's eyes opened in the dark. Lavender irises catching moonlight. His infant fingers curled against the blanket with a sense of excitement and anger. Because rage began to surge up in his very being.
This was Jonathan's rage. The rage of someone who had suffered for years under a shadow he didn't understand. The rage of someone who had been robbed of something they didn't know they had.
His gaze locked on the shining moons. He didn't know who the hooded figure was.
Not yet. But when he knew a truth of why he was cursed: He will kill all those involved, and their blood will run.