Upon entering the Academy, we were met with a flurry of white-robed figures darting back and forth. Philosophers, scholars, healers all striving to uncover a cure, or at least a sliver of understanding. We moved deeper into the building, descending into its dimly lit lower chambers, where amidst scrolls and crumbling papyri, the elders toiled.
They wrote feverishly, flipped through tomes, cross-referenced ancient prophecies.
"Plato!" Diogenes called out loudly. "I may have found a solution."
An old man with a snow-white beard slowly raised his head. His face bore the fatigue of sleepless nights, deep shadows under his eyes. He wore a simple gray tunic.
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"And what solution could come from a man who sleeps in gutters and argues like a stubborn goat?" he retorted with biting sarcasm. "If you've truly found one, I'll throw myself off a cliff."
"Ambrosia," Diogenes said slowly.
The hall fell silent. Quills ceased scratching parchment.
Plato sighed, resting his forehead in one hand, and murmured quietly:
"Athens cannot waste its strength chasing the illusion of salvation. Follow the wrong path, and you risk losing the right one."
"You've heard of him, haven't you? This is Damocles," Diogenes interjected. "I swear on my name he can be trusted."
"So it was you who spoke of this?" Plato narrowed his eyes. "I can't recall Diogenes ever vouching for anyone. If you truly retrieve the ambrosia, we will craft a cure for all."
"I will retrieve it," I said firmly. "But first we must know exactly where it lies."
"Hmph… The legends say the ambrosia was forged by the god of medicine himself, in his quest to create a remedy that could heal any being of any illness. He meant to share it with the world. But then… he vanished. His creation remained only in myth."
"The Garden of the Hesperides," I said. "I know there grows the Tree of Life."
"The Tree of Life... If its energy could be drawn, a cure might be made," Plato muttered thoughtfully. Rising swiftly, he went to a cabinet, retrieved a bundle of scrolls, and unrolled them to reveal a map. He studied it in silence, until his finger came to rest upon an island. "Here. I've heard scattered rumors lush greenery, strange tales. They say those who sleep there awaken free of pain and weariness."
"Then that's where I'll go. But I have a request: I need a compass one attuned to guide between worlds," I said, turning to Plato.
"I'll do what I can. But first, the cure," he replied.
"You've wounded me, old teacher," Diogenes snapped. "Why do you show him such respect, and call me nothing but 'old man'?"
"You see, Diogenes," Plato replied with a faint smirk, "this youth's eyes are wide open. They see the truth."
Diogenes scowled and raised a fist. For all his bluntness, even in the darkest moments, he somehow dispelled gloom with his coarse spirit perhaps on purpose, or perhaps it was simply his nature.
"I won't delay. I must depart. I'll need a ship and charts," I said, rising.
"You shall have all you need," Plato answered without hesitation.
They gave me the fastest ship moored in the harbor. It was stocked with provisions and everything that might aid a long journey. As the preparations were underway, I took a moment to visit Callista.
She lay burning with fever lips trembling, eyes darting in fevered delirium. She did not recognize me. I clasped her hand and whispered that I would return with the cure. Leaving Nicander to care for his mother, I stepped out of their home.
By the time I boarded the vessel, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon. Unexpectedly, several men volunteered to accompany me. One of them I recognized Androcles, the very man who had greeted me in Athens.
At my silent question why they would march to their deaths he answered simply:
"We'll either find the cure… or die trying."
The ship set sail, our course westward into the open sea. According to the maps, at least a full day's voyage awaited us. I stood at the railing, watching as the city slowly disappeared beyond the horizon. The wind carried the same salty breeze… and beneath it, faint but unmistakable, was a scent I recognized.
Kraken.
Rowing harder, we sailed for several hours…
"Prepare yourselves. We'll be meeting the Kraken soon," I said. I was ready like never before. Nothing could stop me now.
The sea went mad. Waves hurled the ship as black clouds swallowed the sky. A heavy, oppressive tension filled the air.
With a thunderous roar, a tentacle burst from the water and slammed onto the deck. I stepped in its path my shield took the first blow. Using aggressive defense, I hurled the foul limb back into the sea.
The monster emerged from the depths in full. Its massive maw opened wide, reeking of rot. The stench of death struck like a hammer, making us cough and gasp for breath. From the abyss, dozens of tentacles reached out.
I grabbed my spear and hurled it. Its tip flared with heat, pierced the beast's eye, and exited on the other side. Black blood spurted in a fountain, blinding the monster. The tentacles thrashed in fury, lashing at the sea.
One shot toward the ship. I leapt forward and deflected it with my shield, though the vessel still shuddered dangerously.
"You need to leave," I shouted over my shoulder. "I'll catch up later."
Losing the ship wasn't an option. I could fly, yes but staying in the air for long was exhausting.
I waited for the Kraken to open its maw again. My body flared with willpower, and I shot straight into the abyss of its throat. Bursting through its innards, I tore a path and exploded out the other side, crashing into the sea.
The Kraken roared a furious, ear-shattering cry. Despite the gaping wound, it lived. It possessed monstrous endurance. I glanced at its old wounds: the tentacle I'd once destroyed had regrown, and scars were all that remained.
Water was its domain, and it moved with terrifying speed. Tentacles came from all directions, raining down blows. My shield held firm, and my spear thrummed, building power.
When one tentacle struck me from the side, I didn't block. I let it hit me closing the distance. The impact nearly flung me away, but I drove my spear into its flesh and clung tight with both hands.
The Kraken screamed in pain and thrashed wildly, trying to shake me off. When that failed, it changed tactics one tentacle wrapped around my torso… then another… and another. They began to constrict. The pressure was unimaginable.
I had never felt such force. It dragged me downward, into the dark. It wanted to drown me.
My spear glowed with crimson light. My arms were coated in will, filling me with overwhelming power. The spearhead sank deeper into its flesh, vibrating, tearing the beast apart from within. Cracks split across the surface of its tentacles. Then they burst, shredding into pieces.
Realizing I wouldn't become its prey, the Kraken tried to flee into the depths. But I wasn't going to let it go. Not this time.
I drove my spear forward and tore my way through its body. Flesh parted, and black, viscous blood stained the sea like ink spilled on an ancient scroll.
The dead beast began to sink, descending into the abyss.
Once I was sure it was finished, I surged upward. Breaking the surface, I gasped for air, sucking it into my lungs.
"I hate the sea," I muttered. I'd been reminded again water was not my element.
My body cloaked itself in will again, and I rose into the air. Scanning the horizon, I spotted the ship nearby. I dropped into the water at its side. Reaching for the edge, I saw hands extended toward me. Grasping one, I climbed aboard.
"Are you even human?" asked Androcles, eyeing me with disbelief.
"In soul and body," I replied, panting heavily.
"I dread to imagine what would happen if you were my enemy," he said with genuine respect.
"My enemies are far worse," I answered, raising my eyes to the sky.
"The gods? But they're our protectors. Without them, this world wouldn't exist. You speak strange things," Androcles said, frowning.
"Then tell me if they are our protectors, why haven't they healed everyone?" I asked, locking eyes with him.
He opened his mouth to reply but fell silent, lowering his gaze. He thought deeply. They believed salvation would come through prayer. But those they prayed to were the ones who cursed them in the first place.
"Is it for our sins? Perhaps we've angered the gods," Androcles said grimly.
"We are flawed and full of sin… but we also have virtue. Does everyone truly deserve this fate?" I asked.
He couldn't answer. The words caught in his throat.
If the Kraken had appeared, other threats would follow. Olympus does not forgive so easily. Which meant… I might have to visit the Underworld sooner than I planned.