Chapter 2: Alcaeus
Alcaeus observed the woman from his position in the tree line. She had appeared from nothing and it made him suspicious of her immediately. Another immortal, perhaps? It mattered little to him, but it caused him unease at the thought that she was sent here for the purpose of stirring up trouble. It would only lead to him being punished yet again by his bastard of a father.
Kakasbos, the Anatolian god of war and strength, and his father. He had cursed his son to live here for the rest of his life, due to a crime that was no fault of his own. Alcaeus’ father had taken a mortal lover and when she was killed, he was the one who bore the brunt of his father’s wrath.
He had been here for what could have been minutes, or weeks, he supposed. But as he scanned the woman and her clothing, he quickly realized that it had to be far longer than that. Her clothes were completely foreign to him and he couldn’t find words to describe her wear.
She was beautiful, but not outlandishly so. Auburn hair framed an oval shaped face that was made up of soft angles and cinnamon colored eyes that darkened toward the edges and lit up in the center. She was pale, extremely so and appeared not to be out in the sun often, if that was anything to go by.
He watched as she set her bag on the ground, and rubbed a stone hanging from her neck. It was a pale pink and he wondered briefly if it meant something to her. She spoke soft words, and he could hear them, but they were of a foreign language that he had never heard before.
She looked up at the sky, a frown adorning her soft features, but it slipped away as a sigh escaped her.
Alcaeus followed her along the beach for some time, till they neared the fire. He stilled when she did, and a look of apprehension came over her face. She breathed in deeply, almost subconsciously, and he saw a brief flash of uncertainty. She brushed her hands against the top of her shoes, which were leather and covered most of her lower legs. He saw a flash of light momentarily, almost as if the light, or lack thereof, struck something metallic. A hidden blade perhaps?
They walked on further till she spotted the fire. She stopped.
He brushed a bush as he stepped out into the clear, drawing her attention. She stepped back, though clearly not from fear, but to take him in.
Her eyes scanned him, taking in his appearance. He knew what she would see. The countless scars, some new and small, most of them old and long. He had received the new from this awful hell plane. The old, from the tenacious fighters he had fought before he had been punished.
He looked at her, shocked at how penetrating her gaze was. Alcaeus dropped his expression. He would be lying if he claimed that he trusted her. Not when the idea that she was sent here as a further punishment of him was so fresh in his mind.
He spoke to her, hoping she’d understand him, “What did you do to end up here?”
His voice was rusty from disuse and she tilted her head at him silently for a moment.
A small smile came onto her face then. It was meant to be kind he supposed, but he didn’t trust the woman. He’d be stupid to at this point.
A look of irritation flashed in her eyes, as if she was irritated at herself more so than him. She briefly looked away before glancing back at him. She scanned him with her eyes once more.
She dropped her bag to the ground and held up her hands toward him as if she were surrendering, “I suppose, it must be fate.”
She could speak his language then. It surprised him because her accent was only slightly off.
He frowned at the woman, dissatisfied with her response. He did not push his hair out of the way as he looked at her and it seemed to spike her curiosity when he met her gaze. He knew she was waiting for him to speak again, but he waited for her instead.
She let out a breath slowly, “Who are you?”
Alcaeus let a breath escape him and scanned her once more. She was small for most of the women he had met, but she was not child like in the least. She did not flinch beneath his gaze and he felt curious at her actions. She must be strong of mind, most of the women he had met were rather demure, but she appeared to have little care for it.
“Alcaeus.” He replied, his accent drawing out thicker.
She nodded, seeming content to tell him her own name, “I am Eleanora.”
Her name did not suit her accent and he had never heard a name quite like her’s before. She appeared briefly surprised as if she had only just noticed the accent she had taken on.
She looked toward the fire up ahead. It was large and consuming. “How long has that been burning?”
Alcaeus blinked at the woman before glancing at it as well. “I have only ever lit it once.”
“How long ago was that?” She asked, a frown making its way onto her face.
He shrugged, “I do not know. I have never felt time pass here. I may have been here days, weeks, months, years… I have no way of knowing outside of you.”
He turned and walked toward the flames, guiding her to the fire. He saw how her skin shivered without her consent, and how she was putting up a false expression to hide it. He was never cold here, though he supposed it must be if her response was anything to go by.
Not that he had ever been cold ever to begin with. It must have something to do with his father’s blood, because his mother had no such immunity to chilled winters.
She followed him wordlessly to the fire, her bag, having not been picked up, appeared beside her when she sat down in front of it. She held her hands out to soak in some heat, but withdrew once she realized what she was doing.
He watched her from behind and slightly to the right, closer to the treeline. Her hair was freeing itself from her braid and she sighed when it would not stay behind her ear and out of her face.
He watched her, and she watched him, turning to look at him. He turned back to the fire after a moment.
He saw her pull open her bag and pull out a jar, scooting closer to him and holding it out.
“Here,” she said, “Rub some of this in your hair and rinse it with water.”
He took the jar from her, but pointed at the water crashing against the shore, “I would kill for water. Whatever this is, it burns, and it is certainly not water.”
She followed his pointing to the waves. The water was stained a dark pink, which should have warned him from the beginning to not drink from it to begin with. But nevertheless he had and he had regretted it.
Eleanora reached into her bag again, this time pulling out a blue glass bottle and handing it to him.
He took it from her, amazed at how she was doing this. He quickly dropped the expression.
“What are you?” He asked her, partly curious, partly distrustful.
“Demigod, witch, woman, among other things.” She spoke with an even confidence, and cast him a soft smile. He nodded, expecting her allusive description.
A moment passed.
“How long have I been here?” He asked her and she frowned, something not quite like pity shown in her brown orbs.
“You have been here for a long time. Too long. Your world has grown, and your culture has been almost erased by time.” She said softly, almost as if she gave a damn about how much he’d been through.
He was angry, perhaps not really at her, but she made a good target. He turned to her, “How long?”
“In your homeland, almost nine thousand years has passed since your birth.” She said slowly and he sunk back away from her.
He was shocked and the anger quickly slipped away, if only momentarily. He began to shake and memories played back in his head of all those he’d left behind. Aikaterine, his wife. Elpis, his mother, and Heron, his mentor. They were all gone, none of them had been like him, never aging, they had all been mortal, and Alcaeus leaned back, sweeping his hands over his face.
He had been certain that Aikaterine had been with child, and she had been overjoyed at the thought. Gods, he would never even see the child. Not even in death, if his father would have his way.
Elpis, the only good thing in his life for most of it, and her never ending hope for better for the both of them, was gone.
Heron, his mentor, the one who had taught him everything about what it meant to be a man and a warrior, was gone as well. Granted, he had been at the end of his life anyway, but he had been Alcaeus’ true father.
Gods, all for nothing. He had been stuck here for absolutely nothing, and now everyone he knew and loved were gone. And he, he was cursed to live like this till the end of time. He felt so damn tired, feeling the pointlessness of it all bearing down upon him.
He hadn’t even realized that he was crying. The woman, Eleanora, sat beside him quietly, patiently waiting for him to come back down from his pain, but that would not be anytime soon.
He barely noticed as she covered him up with thick blanket. It didn’t make a difference temperature wise, but he knew she was trying to make it easier on him, which he appreciated. He laid on the unearthly sands, the blanket covering him, and he watched the woman fall onto her back, her over clothes covering her as she slept, her head cushioned by the cloth that had been wrapped around her slender neck.
She slept, but he was restless. Alcaeus rested, but when he recovered he stood up, covering her with the blanket. He walked along the beach till he grew bored and wandered into the forest. It was odd looking he supposed, seeing as how the only shrubbery grew on the outer edges of the treeline, leaving barren land and trees as his only entertainment.
The trees never appeared to lose their branches here, nor did they ever crash down to the ground. It was almost always quiet in this hell of his, and he found himself glad that Eleanora appeared, if only so that he had someone to talk to. It was lonely here, but at times he savored it. He could be without constrictions here, without the anxiety of having to pretend that he was fine when he wasn’t. Alcaeus got the feeling he wouldn’t have to worry about that when it came to Eleanora.
He walked on, and on, and on, until his walking became a jog, and then a desperate run. He wanted to drain himself of whatever energy he had, especially if it meant he could sleep, even if it wasn’t long.
So he ran and ran and ran, but it was all for nothing. Alcaeus let out a sigh, he supposed his guest of sorts would be awakening.
He didn’t doubt that she probably had food in her bag, but still he searched until he found a low hanging tree. After retrieving one of the only sources of food on the island, he headed back toward the fire, in no real hurry to get back.
He noticed her glance at him from her position by the fire, and how she awaited his presence patiently. She looked up at him as he approached her. Her expression was neutral and slightly blank, but it brightened when he kneeled beside her.
Alcaeus handed her the odd looking fruit, and let her analyze it for a moment. “It is the only edible food I have found on this island.”
“How is it eaten?” She asked him, careful of the spikes as she rolled it over in her hands.
Alcaeus picked it up and smashed against his knee. He did not move as the spikes jabbed at his flesh and pierced his skin. It was just another set of scars, it mattered very little at this point. The fruit split open, he handed her one half, pulling out the needle like spikes before handing it over.
He spotted hesitation in her eyes, and bit into his half, causing black seeds to fall, and a sort of violet colored juice to flow down his jaw. It ceased after a moment, and he bit into it again. He ate sparingly for the most part, it never seemed to be a real need to him anymore, but he suspected that it was due to this plane.
She looked down briefly at her half before biting into it. She was much cleaner than he was, though he suspected she was just observant.
She pulled back from it, glancing back at him for a moment before taking another bite.
Eleanora sat beside him for a while, she didn’t pressure him to talk, or even speak herself while they sat together.
She looked up at the sky, and he glanced up briefly as well. It was the same as always, never changing, like him.
“What do you call this place?” She asked him and he glanced back at her.
He traced his gaze back to the sky, and let out a breath before switching to the fire. “Acermonos.”
She nodded at his response, before looking away. “What if you could leave?”
“What is the world like?” He asked her in response, curious a little bit even.
“The landscape is kinder than this world, even if the people do not treat their earth kindly.” She remarked after a moment.
“Everyone I knew is gone.” He stated, his voice not cold, but a strange type of unfeeling. It felt numb, too numb too quickly. Alcaeus let out a breath, perhaps he had known it all along that everyone was too far gone for him to reach.
“There are people you could meet. It won’t replace those you lost, but it is better than being left alone for the rest of eternity. Let me tell you, as an immortal to another immortal, you cannot avoid the death of the people you love.” Eleanora’s voice was soft, and he wondered who she had lost to give herself such an outlook.
Alcaeus stared at her, quiet and strangely calm. “How do you leave those feelings behind, then?”
Eleanora blinked at him, a sad look coming over her pale features. “You don’t.”
“It will stay as long as you live. You can only hope to grow strong enough to move forward, regardless of the pain.”
He gave a slow nod, and she sighed, staring at him. He watched her grab hold of her bag, and she pulled out a comb and brush and a pair of connected silver blades. She sat up onto her knees.
“Here,” she said, “Sit in front of me, your hair is filled with knots.”
He looked at her curiously, but moved to do as she bid him to, he laid back, supporting himself on his hands as she combed out his hair as best as she could. After a while she sighed.
“Do you mind if I cut some of it off? I can’t seem to get the knots out of most of it.” She asked, smiling when he shook his head.
“I do not care,” he stated, staring at the fire in front of him.
She nodded and the sound of snipping and the feeling of his head getting lighter distracted him. “How did you not realize that you had been here for such a long time?”
Her muttering caught his attention.
“It did not grow fast, it happened so gradually that I was unaware of it for the most part. Though if I have been here as long as you claim I have, it must have stopped growing at some point, that or it was slower than I thought.” He replied to her, and he noticed her slow briefly as his words before picking up again.
She gently cleared out the knots above his now shoulder-length hair. She was patient as she did this and she hummed a song he had never heard before as she worked. Alcaeus doubted she even knew she was humming, and said nothing.
Time passed, he was truly beginning to notice now, and eventually she was running the comb through easily. He startled her when he grabbed hold of her hand, but she didn’t pull away. It pleased him, she didn’t mind his touch like most women outside his wife and mother had.
“Eleanora,” He spoke, seeking to try it out on his tongue. He frowned at his pronunciation but she laughed. Her laugh was like a stream; refreshing and it brought him happiness to hear it.
He smiled at her, but withdrew immediately. Do not be foolish, you do not truly know her and her motives, a voice in him spoke up, but he disregarded it as he saw her transparent mask slip away to reveal a genuine smile.
“Do you want to? Leave, I mean.” She asked him again and he dropped his gaze, turning away from her.
He sat up again dropped his arms to the top of his knees. “Yes, but it would be a world I do not know, at least not anymore.”
“I could take you somewhere else,” she claimed, “A world with primarily immortals. I know most of them, though they probably do not recall me as much as I do them.”
“No mortals?” His disbelief was evident, even to himself.
“There are some, but the world to which I speak is the Homeland for all races, and a hub of sorts for immortals in particular.” She insisted.
She touched his arm, sending a pleasant warmth tingling into his skin.
“What is such a world like?” He asked, turning back to her, his curiosity made clear to the both of them.
“It is chaotic, destructive, and amazingly beautiful, so it is interesting to say the least.” She spoke of it with a contented tone, and her brown eyes lit up when she described such a world to him.
She brushed through his hair, pouring water over his head and rubbing some of the jarred soap into his scalp before rinsing it out.
It dried and he felt his hair clean for the first time in far too long. He caught a locke in between his fingers, feeling lighter as the smell of vanilla invaded his senses.
He felt good for the first time in forever.
The air became dense, and the air felt tight in his throat. It let up quickly, and he was on his feet, grabbing Eleanora up and pulling her into the treeline out of any light.
“Wh-” she spoke, but he covered her mouth with a hand, holding a finger over his lips and she nodded, but her eyes gave away her shock.
Someone was here.
A figure appeared beside the fire so fast that Alcaeus blinked in shock. The man was taller than the black haired demigod and while his hair was incredibly dark, it was more of a dark red than a black. He wore clothes similar to Eleanora’s, and they appeared worn with age, though the man appeared to have just reached maturity. He stared at the flames for a moment and then Alcaeus knew they were spotted as the man turned to face them with a smile lighting up his face. He looked much younger when he smiled, like all his maturity had been cast out the window.
The man barely glanced at Alcaeus and he next appeared in front of Eleanora, grabbing her up and spinning the short woman around in a circle.
She spoke, but it was the language she had spoken before she had noticed him. It was foreign, and unfamiliar to him. The man pouted at her words, but placed her back on the ground with surprising care.
The man let out an odd whine, speaking in the same tongue as her. Eleanora looked amused, but she gave the man a raised brow as a response.
The man beamed at her, not even acknowledging Alcaeus.
Alcaeus stepped out from behind the tree line and suddenly the man appeared in front of him. He pulled himself to a stop to avoid running into the taller man, who was hunched over and staring at him, as if he really needed to, which he didn’t seeing as how he was only an inch or two taller. His stare unnerved Alcaeus, it was suspicious and overly dramatic, like he meant it to be more for Eleanora than for himself. The man was definitely aiming to annoy at least one of them however as he began to try and touch Alcaeus’ face, and the demigod slapped the man’s hand away, sending a subtle glare at the fast immortal ( he had to be, Alcaeus thought, for no mortal could look like him, or be as quick).
Eleanora spoke again, smiling at Alcaeus like she knew he was about to crack. The man spoke once more, and he sent a look of confusion toward Alcaeus, who was trying to figure out what the two were saying, but failing miserably.
Eleanora sighed, pressing a finger against the length of her nose. She appeared to chide the man and he stepped away with a look of clarity on his face. The man held up his hands in a show of peace. The man smiled at Alcaeus.
“What is your name?” The man asked, his accent choppy with Alcaeus’ mother language, but clear enough to come across.
Alcaeus blinked at the man, glancing at Eleanora out of the corner of his eyes. She cast him a soft smile and he replied back to the man, “Alcaeus, and yours?”
The man struggled with the accent as he spoke, completely forgoing it for his own name.
“Conner,” he said, “Though I doubt it translates well.”
He nodded at the man silently. He had no doubt that he would struggle to pronounce Conner’s name, like he had with Eleanora. Eleanora smiled once more, this time at the man before turning to him.
“Conner is another immortal, and he lives in the Homeland as well. He could help you adjust if you decide to leave.”
He nodded toward Conner, thinking it over once more.
What really did he have here? Solitude. Nothing much else, but though life was hell here, he had still adjusted well enough. But he could find that in this new world as well, he was sure. His solitude had bothered him though, he was alone here, and had no one but himself to talk to.
He would have to learn to live again, to talk to the others that he would surely meet, and he would have to learn how to be around others. He knew he was capable of everything he had listed, but it was daunting and though he knew he should go with them, the feeling was strongly leaning him away from that.
Eleanora seated herself down where she had sat previously, and Conner took up spot next to her. The red headed man would not still, and he kept moving around and around like he wanted to find a comfortable way to sit, but couldn’t seem to find a way.
Alcaeus watched him for a moment and Eleanora noticed his stare and grabbed hold of the other man’s arm. Conner slowed slightly, but it was fruitless and he picked his speed up again.
She looked pained for a moment, “Tell him about Home, I’ll be a little out of it for a while.”
Alcaeus sat down beside Eleanora, angled toward the man. He watched him carefully, but Eleanora began to sway, drawing his attention. Within moments, she collapsed against him, breathing slowly and evenly, like she was asleep.
“Vision,” Conner noted.
“Vision?” Alcaeus asked, confused, but quickly picking up on it thereafter.
But still Conner elaborated, nodding his head, “Nora’s a seer. I heard from one of my sisters that she can see both the present and the future.”
It was silent for a moment for all but Conner’s movements. He twiddled his fingers against the ground, then started playing with the sand, restless.
Conner glanced at him, “So…”
Alcaeus cocked his head to the side. Conner sighed and let out a breath, “What do you want to know?”
Alcaeus was silent for a moment. What did he want to know?
“Who lives in the Homeland?” He stared.
Conner mused it over for a moment. “Immortals for the most part, though mortals do live there too. Immortals run everything essentially, though. Mortals give the place some life, some purpose, that we can’t. They encourage everyone to strive for better, which helps, I think. Don’t get me wrong, we still have trouble trying to stay motivated, and quite a few of us make crossovers to different places, times, etcetera trying to find something to do, but we’re getting better recently. Less death to worlds and everything usually means that. But I have this theory-”
Alcaeus tuned him out for several moments as the man continued on. He didn’t appear to have a clear point or a clear answer to give him.
“What is it like, there?” He asked the man, trying to redirect him.
Conner blinked at him for a moment. “It is Home. It is the only place where we can live with people like us. It is the only place where my family and I are accepted, because we created it. It is the only place that we all keep going back to, because no other place is like it. No other place even comes close to it, in that we can be who we are, we don’t have to hide, we don’t have to pretend that we are other than what we are, and we certainly do not have to be alone there.”
Alcaeus stared at the man. Would he be able to be as happy there as Conner was? He would not know anyone beside the two sitting beside him, but Eleanora seemed determined that he come. Conner loved the place, his home.
He was distracted as he felt Eleanora stir against him. Her brows were pushed together and she seemed pained and tired.
“Is this what a vision does to her?” He asked Conner and the red headed man nodded.
She sat up for a moment, yawned and then began to sway once more. Conner grabbed hold of her and held her against his chest, a look of care upon his face and he beamed at the demigod.
“I hope you’ll come,” Conner asserted lightly.
Alcaeus sighed slowly, “I suppose it would be better than staying here for the rest of my life.”
The twitching immortal laughed, “Probably.”
ns 15.158.61.6da2
